Marvel: Reborn
by aspiringactor
Summary: An alternate take on the Marvel Universe, centering around the Avengers as they attempt to navigate a very charged climate to prove themselves as Earth's Mightiest Heroes. Ongoing series. (AU)
1. Avengers Assemble (Part 1)

**_A/N: Alright, here we go. This is my second crack at my original idea for 'Marvel: Reborn'. Plot elements in the original story just became to convoluted and I wound up writing myself into a corner, so I'm starting fresh here. Some things will remain the same, while others will be vastly different._**

 _Gunfire. That was all he could hear. Gunfire. Mortar shells. Grenades. Tanks. Shouting. Planes in the sky engaged in desperate dogfights with enemies. Around him, soldiers were either fighting, dyeing or dead. Some of them he called friend, others he called enemy._

 _Though, in the long run, it didn't really matter. In the end, they would all become food for maggots. So why did he continue to fight?_

 _Because he had to._

 _"_ _Charge!" shouted Steve Rogers, the legendary super-soldier, and sole hope for the allied forces, known to the world as Captain America. Amidst the din and grime of a pitched battle, he alone stood out as a beacon for those who followed him. Like a ray of light during a harsh storm all manner of men gathered around him. Young, old, rich, poor, American, British, Canadian and French all rallied to his side for the one final push that would pave the way to an assured victory for the allied forces._

 _Over two hundred men heeded his call, and joined his savage strike against the Nazi line. Both sides met like a clash of thunder. Bullets pierced hearts, rifle butts struck heads, bayonets carved through flesh. A severed arm flew past Steve's head as he drove his gloved fist into the mouth of a high-ranking officer. With his other hand, Steve wielded a round, star-spangled shield which protected him from harm. "Seize those doors!" he barked, pointing to a quartet of men, who promptly obeyed his order. After all, their suicidal battle would be useless if they were unable to pierce the Nazi stronghold._

 _"_ _Captain, Nazi reinforcements are on the way!" someone called out to him, "ETA twenty minutes!"_

 _"_ _Then we've got fifteen!" Steve roared back as he tackled a German machine-gun operator, and ripped the weapon from its base. He turned it back on the German line, mowing the men down with their own gun in a bloody spectacle. "Move up!" Six of his men flanked him, providing cover fire as he made his way to the entrance, still mowing down Nazi's, until the machine-gun's magazine ran dry._

"Captain?"

Steve blinked twice, bringing himself back to reality. He wasn't in Nineteen forty-five anymore, he had to remember that. He was in the modern day. More than seventy years had passed since he had left that time in his life. It was a lot for him to take in when he had first awoken, as so much had changed. The world had gone on without him, something he had never really conceived as he was fighting in the battlefields of Europe. People now carried telephones in their pockets, and had wires hanging out of their ears. Bright screens lit up entire streets flashing advertisements for their products. Men were now allowed to marry other men, and women could marry women. Music, in his opinion, had gone downhill.

He was sitting in a large mess hall, filled to about half capacity with men and women wearing blue-gray fatigues. On the left breast of each chest, there was a round insignia with an eagle carrying a shield and sword. Most people also bore firearms strapped to their belts, or in holsters under their shoulders.

"Captain, are you alright?"

Steve shook his head, ridding himself of the sounds of mortar fire and tank shells as he re-adjusted to his new position. He was no longer in a battle. He was among friends and allies. Younger government agents who revered him as an idol, or a god-like figure.

And with that, came certain parallels to another man, who had been reverently adored. A man that Steve wanted to never be compared to so long as he lived.

" _Yes,"_ He breathed slowly, bringing his jackhammer-like heartbeat down to a normal level. "Yes, I'm fine," he repeated, more to himself than anything. Most of the men and women around him seemed to be appeased by his words, with their worry lines all but disappearing. Only a few seemed to remain skeptical, as they exchanged looks among themselves. It was the subtle cues he picked up on the most. Those who were still concerned were his most loyal friends in the twenty-first century.

"You were telling us about the siege of the Hydra stronghold in North Germany?" A wide-eyed agent, named Sam Rodriguez said intently, as he leaned in, obviously very vested in what Steve had to say.

"What more's there to tell?" the youngest Agent present, Daisy Johnson, replied sarcastically as she leaned back in her chair, putting her hands behind her head. "He showed up, which they did _not-zi_ coming. Then Cap here kicked their asses until they were Red, White n' blue!" A cackle of laughter erupted from the table. Two agents nearly fell from their chairs as a joke-telling battle ensued. Their distraction was so great that no one noticed Steve slip away from the table on his own. Which was what he really wanted. He didn't want to be with them. He wanted to be with his _brothers._ The ones who had died years ago. Who's remains where scattered over Europe. And there really was only one place he could feel close to them again.

…xxXxx…

"Pardon me," the blue-furred Mutant doctor, Hank McCoy, said as he bustled through the streets of Manhattan during rush hour. The street was absolutely packed, and there was very little room to walk. Added to this were two facts. One, he was on a very tight schedule, as he was supposed to be teaching his very first class at NYU in less than two hours. The other fact was that people didn't bother to get out of his way. Some even went as far as to deliberately push him. This was of course, due to his _unusual_ skin condition, and beastly appearance. For the most part, his gorilla-like physique allowed him to shrug off the impacts of shoulders and elbows. But it was their sneers that cut deep into his soul. "Excuse me," he mumbled, as he tried to push past a very large man, who had tattoos running p and down his arms, and even up as far as his neck.

Clearly, not the type that Hank would want to upset.

But it was _way_ too late for that, as the good doctor could clearly see the words 'death to muties' written on his arm. Definitely not a good sign.

"Die you fuckin' freak!" The man roared as he reared his arm back and launched a powerful, wide-swinging punch in Hank's general direction. And although McCoy prided himself as a pacifist first and foremost, he had been in his fair share of fights, most of which had been started by his mutation. And so, he had reverently studied basic fisticuff techniques, and how best to avoid them. With a twist of his arms and shoulders, Hank re-directed the man's strike, as two more thugs approached from behind, one bearing what looked like brass knuckles, the other wielding a switchblade.

"Now, now, gentlemen," Hank said cautiously as he raised his arms in front of his body, trying to show that he meant them no harm. Of course, as he expected, this didn't seem to help one bit. "I am sure we can all be perfectly civil here and-." He was cut off by being roughly grabbed from behind, forcing Hank to drop his peaceful nature and tap into his more bestial side. He brought his legs up to his chest, forming a ball with his body before kicking out at the fat man. All four of them fell to the ground, with Hank being the first to fully recover, due to his honed reflexes. "There really is no need to-" he said as one of the men grabbed his leg.

Reacting quickly, Hank spun around and kicked him in the face, just as a squad car pulled up to the curb, and two police officers stepped out.

"Well, better late than never," Hank mused under his breath, as both officers, a man and a woman, raised their weapons to a ready position.

" _ON THE GROUND!"_ The male officer roared violently.

"There really is no-," Hank said peacefully, all too aware of what would most likely happen if he so much as moved the wrong way. One wrong gesture, one wrong word, and he'd wind up being shot at by police. "No _need_ for this!" Hank continued calmly, trying to diffuse the situation as diplomatically as possible.

" _ON THE GROUND NOW, DIRTBAG!"_ The female officer shouted.

"I'm the victim here!" Hank said coolly as he slowly got down on his hands and knees. His words seemed to fall on deaf ears, as the police placed him in a set of handcuffs. As he was dragged towards the squad car, a water bottle flew through the air, striking him on the side of the head. _Of course, I should have known,_ he thought to himself, deep inside his thoughts. He looked out the window of the cruiser, seeing the sea of sneers and scowls aimed at him. Though he could not hear their words, they still struck deep. _Sticks and stones break my bones,_ Hank sighed as the car drove off reciting the children's mantra, _but words forever hurt me._

…xxXxx…

 _Flash!_ The blinding light nearly rendered her sightless. And the blurry spots lingered for a few long seconds as a small fit of giggling escaped the young woman beside her.

"Oh god," the Redheaded Jean Grey gasped, as she rubbed her temples, still slightly dizzy from the light. " _Why_ did you do that?" she asked her companion, who just couldn't stop her fit of laughter. Which was most likely due to Jean's reaction and facial expression.

"Well for fun," the younger, Asian-American woman, Jubilation Lee, quipped with a grin across her lips as the two of them walked down a busy New York street. "And perhaps for a little fame. You never know," she smirked as she slapped Jean on the shoulder. "'could come in handy when I'm a famous fashion designer and model. Be a good pic for my autobiography cover."

"A selfie?" Jean chuckled as she tossed a strand of her shoulder-length red hair out of her face. "You'd put a selfie in your autobiography, even if you got one made?" she asked as she re-adjusted the shoulder of her purse, noticing the sign that said 'watch for pick-pockets'. Jean's eyes immediately started scanning everyone around her, but that wasn't all she did. She set her powerful psychic powers to work, looking for potential criminals by scanning the forefronts of their thoughts. Most of them were random tangents of thought, about hot news topics. Which celebrities were marrying who, how much money they had in the bank, if their significant other was cheating on them, and so forth.

"Well I got to learn to strut my stuff," Jubilee shot back playfully, "can't exactly afford to hire models at the moment. So I'm gonna have to be my own model," she continued as they turned a corner. With a flicker of her eyes, Jean saw a sight that every American citizen would know. A grouping of metal statues posed in iconic stances. There was little about their structure that was of note, and they were so commonplace that most tourists didn't bother to notice them, but Jean at least gave them a courtesy glance.

After all, they were the Avengers. Hawkeye. Goliath. Wasp. Iron Man. Vision. Mister Fantastic. The Invisible Woman. The Human Torch. The Thing. Earth's Mightiest Heroes.

Gone since before Jean had been born. But even she knew how much she owed them. How much everyone owed them. She bowed her head in respect, and Jubilee did the same, as they passed. With a small sigh, Jean glanced over the graffiti that smeared the area around the shrine to the fallen heroes. Gang signs, declarations of love, hate messages. It was sacrilegious.

"Watch out for the kid coming up your right," Jubilee whispered into Jean's ear softly. Jean, being vigilant, snapped her eyes up to see a young, well-dressed male, no older than seventeen approaching. He had well-kept hair and designer-style clothes. His walk was confident, and he bore a slight, charming smile. A smile which Jean learned was a clever charade once she so much as peeked into his thoughts. _Nice tits Red,_ the young man thought, his face concealing his crude thoughts, _they'd look a hella lot better with my dick in between them, though._ Jean, who widely considered herself to be the right combination of 'fun' and 'proper', was downright shocked to hear those thoughts coming straight out of such a seemingly nice kid. She was so distracted that she didn't notice just how close he was, until he walked right into her. Their shoulders collided, and Jean realized too late that it was a clever machination, and his hand slipped right into her purse, grabbing as much as he could in less than a second.

"Sorry," the young man said, very convincingly, "sorry, ma'am. Shoulda watched where I was goin'." He said, as he walked away. Somewhat amusingly, Jean realized that he should have taken his own advice. Jubilee had stopped several steps back, and had mimed tying her shoe while the pickpocketing boy had struck. Now that his back was turned, she stood up, being right in his path. The two of _them_ collided, and Jean noted that Jubilee actually _rammed_ her shoulder into his chest hard, all while keeping a steady smile on her face.

"Sorry, _sexy,"_ the younger woman purred as she patted his chest area, where she had hit him. "Wasn't looking where I was going," she continued skillfully as her free hand slowly reached down, and slipped a small piece of paper into the boy's hand, while simultaneously taking back Jean's wallet and phone. "Maybe I can make it up to you," Jubilee smirked as she pulled away from him, and returned to Jean's side with a confident grin on her face.

"You know he's under-age, right?" was all Jean could say as they walked away, more briskly than before.

"Do you really think my standards are that low?" Jubilee snapped back, as she returned her stolen items. "That I'd stoop to….well, someone like _him?_ Even if he wasn't a minor? _"_

 _"_ You're only nineteen," Jean shrugged sympathetically, "only a year's-."

"I said that to distract him," Jubilee said, cutting her off sharply. "Get him to stroke his ego a little, keep his limited brain power focused on something other than what's in his hands."

"Yeah well if you knew what that low-life was thinking like I-," Jean began, quickly regretting her words as she felt the psychic displeasure waves radiating from Jubilee's mind. She didn't go inside her mind, out of respect. But she also didn't need to in order to know she had touched a nerve. A nerve that happened to run very deep. "Hey," Jean said, taking their conversation by the horns and steering it in a completely different direction, "how 'bout we go check out that Museum up ahead before we head to the University, to get you registered?"

"Do I look like the Museum type?" Jubilee chirped back, the traces of her dour expression fading away fast.

"No, but I do," Jean shrugged playfully, as she led the two of them down the street. "If I remember the signs correctly, that World War Two exhibit will still be on. I wanna catch it," she finished delightfully.

…xxXxx…

"Come then!" the heavily armoured Knight roared challengingly, as he drew an impossibly large sword from its scabbard. Behind him, a woman in a tattered dress curled in a corner, cowering in fear. Fear of the monster which the brave knight was confronting alone. "Let me test my steel in your flesh, demon!" The demon, a blue-furred devil, brandished a sword of his own. Along with a dagger, which he wielded with his whip-like tail.

A furious duel ensued. Back and forth, the two fought, with an epic orchestra keeping pace with every sweep of a sword. It was, after all, the brilliant climax of a wonderful musical number, which the audience seemed to be enjoying reverently. Roaring applause accompanied the final sweep of the knight's sword, which 'pierced' the Demon-man's heart. And as he fell, the Hero and the Princess shared a tender, passionate kiss. The crowd went wild, and quickly gave a standing ovation.

Among those was Pepper Stark, the young heiress to a fortune five hundred company. Definitely the richest person in the theatre at the moment. And perhaps the second-richest person in the city, after her shut-in grandfather. And while a great deal of her wealth came from the company he had created, she was definitely a shrewd businesswoman in her own right. She owned a small, but growing line of cosmetic products, as well as shares in both Apple and Microsoft. Not to mention the building she was in at the moment. So, no one could say she was purely a product of her family's wealth.

As the theatre lights came up, Pepper soon found herself being once more surrounded by journalists and paparazzi, some of whom were trying to get her opinion on the performance. Others trying to get her view on world politics, and others simply attacking her with subtle words for being rich. But she was used to them, and simply brushed them off as she made her way backstage. She had a pass, after all, and she intended to use it. Both in order to get away from the leeches, and to ask several questions about the production.

"Miss Stark!" the balding, stereo-typical looking Director gasped as he practically launched himself from his chair, dropping several papers that had previously been on his lap. "My…..what a surprise!" he exclaimed excitedly. "That such a prominent-."

"Please, just spare me the song-and-dance," Pepper smiled warmly, "you've got no idea what it's like dealing with Yes-Men all day. Anyway," she continued as she looked around, seeing the busybodies bustling about, getting out of costumes and into their regular clothes and such. "I just thought I'd like to see a behind-the-scenes look," she shrugged, still looking around. Props were being gathered, costumes were being turned in. It was a somewhat surreal thing to see a Knight's sword propped up against a camping chair.

"Well of course," the Director smiled, as he waved his arms gently, "of course! Of Course!"

…xxXxx…

" _Ma'am,_ I think you should take a look at this," one of twenty-five data analysts said, completely out of the blue, as he signalled to his commanding officer. Maria Hill, a thirty-seven year old woman with a tight bun of black hair pinned behind her head turned towards the man. She turned her nose up slightly at him, as she caught the scent of a cheap meal practically _radiating_ from his breath. She didn't let that deter her from her job, however, and leaned forward, over the back of his chair in order to get a better look at his screen.

They were in the S.H.I.E.L.D. Deep-space monitoring sector, buried in the side of a mountain in the Eastern Himalayas. Far from any prying eyes, which was perfect for what they did, and how they did it. Because even though a good chunk of people believed that extraterrestrials _might_ exist, none of them actually had the slightest _clue_ how right they were. Which was one of the areas that S.H.I.E.L.D. was practically forced to excel, keeping information from the public when they weren't ready to hear it.

They had done it for twenty years, with the Mutant Population, secretly moving Mutants around the world, to secure cities were they would be isolated from the rest of the world. But of course, the government had intervened, and that information got out to the public. Though, thankfully, the organization's name had been kept an absolute secret, even among the firestorm of political and public backlash. Still, Maria didn't know if it was best for the Mutants to be public. Mutants were being harassed left, right and centre, and a few had struck back. With violent results. To her, it was only a matter of time before someone started a civil war over the whole thing. Especially given the fact that Mutants as a whole were denied so many basic rights, such as the right to a lawyer, the right to vote, the right to marry, and the right to a fair trial.

She shuddered to think of the consequences of people learning of aliens.

"What is it?" Maria asked the Agent, as she stared intently at the screen.

" _This,_ ma'am," the young Agent said as he pointed to the upper left corner of his screen. "It's a meteor shower, headed _straight_ for us."

"So?" Maria scoffed, unimpressed by his findings. "It'll burn up in the atmosphere. No worry."

"Ma'am, this wasn't on my screen thirty seconds ago," he said, as he pointed to the screen once more. "And it's changed direction twice."

…xxXxx…

"Well looks like we got us some fresh meat," a particularly rough looking man scowled as Hank found himself being roughly pushed into a holding cell. Of course, Hank didn't want to pay the man any attention. But that wasn't really an option, as his fellow prisoner slammed Hank against the bars of the cell. "and he's a freak ta boot." Hank wanted to reply, to offer some sort of rebuttal. But he didn't have the energy, or the motivation. He just let it happen.

"Hey," the inmate growled, as he pushed Hank again, "I'm talkin' to ya!"

Again, Hank didn't reply. He just stood there and let the punishment come to him. He wondered what had gone wrong, what he had done to deserve his current situation. His day had started out so well, after all. He was on the precipice of a new life, a new career, and it had all fallen apart in a matter of hours.

A single tear fell down the side of his cheek as he was slammed up against the wall again. His shoulder began to hurt, but he still didn't move. No need to give the police another reason to charge him with assault. Or whatever other criminal charge they could pull out of their asses and slap on him.

"You fuckin' deaf?" the large man growled as he gave Hank another shove. This time, however, yet another Inmate spoke up.

"How 'bout you leave 'im alone?" a man with a very thick southern accent spoke dryly. From how Hank's tormentor reacted, this other man obviously commanded a great deal of either fear or respect. Or perhaps both. The cruel man backed away, as the southerner gave Hank a once-over and said, "you don' look like you shoul' be ere'," he said plainly as he closed his eyes casually. "'rough day, friend?"

"Yes," Hank squeaked softly, "I-."

 ** _KRA-KOOM!_** The ceiling of the Police station collapsed upon itself as something sliced through the roof like a hot knife through butter. Chunks of debris rained down upon everyone inside. Prisoners and Police alike screamed in pure panic as a hole was ripped into the side of the building by what appeared to be an oversized boulder, at first glance. A second glance, however, revealed that this was in fact a meteorite, as large as a car. With its pure mass, it ripped the bars of Hank's cell open. Both people he had been locked inside with raced for the exit. No one stopped them, and Hank was left to consider his options.

On one hand, he knew that this would be his only chance to leave. On the other, though, he could see one of the officers who had wrongfully arrested him trapped under a metal support, which had been knocked loose. With a deep sigh, Hank went against all conceivable logic and bounded over a desk to help the woman, who was only barely conscious. "Hang on!" he shouted as his padded feet landed next to her head.

" _Helpmehelpmehelpmehelpme!"_ the young woman frantically screamed at the top of her lungs. Doing his best to ignore the piercing cries he studied the position of the beam, and his surroundings. Applying the proper mathematics, he positioned himself accordingly and gripped the beam tight and gave a mighty heave. For a brief second, the support did not move an inch. But, ever so slowly, it began to give way as his superhuman strength went to work. The weight was far from his maximum deadlift, but the positioning wasn't as ideal as he would have liked, so there was a fair amount of strain put on his shoulders.

" _Hrrgg!"_ he groaned as he lifted the beam past his shoulder, giving the woman ample time to pull herself free. With another mighty heave, he shoved the twisted metal aside, letting it crash through what remained of his cell, and a row of desks. He stood on the spot for a brief moment, merely panting as the adrenaline flowed through his system. He cast a singular glance over to the woman he had saved, who looked at him with complete shock as three of her companions rushed to her aid, bandaging her leg, which had been crushed by the beam, as well as several gashes on both arms. Their peaceful moment was soon interrupted, however, with a loud _hiss_ sound.

It took hank a few seconds to locate the exact source of the sound, but he soon discovered that it was coming from the meteorite itself. Gas was seeping out of it, and Hank came to a horrifying conclusion. The meteor wasn't a meteor. It was a spaceship. Filled with nasty-looking green blobs vaguely shaped like humans. Who proceeded to aim their gun-like apparatuses in his general direction, forcing Hank to dive desperately out of the way of incoming fire.

…xxXxx…

" _Gruk-!"_ one of the foul creatures gasped as T'challa, King of Wakanda drove a ceremonial vibranium sword through what he assumed was its gut. Cold, purple blood spewed everywhere as the alien fell to the ground, dead. T'challa didn't even blink at the creature's sudden demise, as he swiftly swung his sword through the neck of another creature, and impaled another with a thrown spike.

" _Hak!"_ the African King bellowed as he downed another one of the invades, feeling its surprisingly icy blood splatter over his chest piece. He cast a look around, seeing the bloody display around him. Over twenty bodies lay on the New York City pavement. Six of them were alien. The rest were human. Innocents who had been caught in the crossfire. Not far from his feet, a dead mother lay over her deceased child. With her last breath she had tried to shield her daughter, and ultimately failed. And, as a Father himself, that made the King's blood boil into a rage.

" _Forward!"_ he roared to the Wakandan guard, who raced to his side, sworn to protect their King. Each was armed rather simply, with nothing but a spear and a shield. Any military that saw them would most likely laugh, until they saw how those weapons were used in combat. The twenty guards formed a wedge shape, with T'challa at the helm as they carved their way through yet another gaggle of the foul aliens. Spears and swords carved through flesh in a brilliant display of combat prowess as the Alien creatures were forced into a sudden retreat.

"They've fallen back!" one of the guards proclaimed excitedly. "We've won!"

"No," T'challa replied, as he felt the most subtle tremor in the pavement beneath his feet. "No, they have not been beaten yet." He said grimly as he noticed that the Aliens were indeed re-grouping for a second assault on the Wakandan embassy. Which forced the king to weigh his options carefully. He looked around, seeing that people were still being evacuated from the area. There was no way that they'd all be taken to the safe-zones in time, as the emergency responders of New York were currently stretched thin as it was. Not that he blamed them for their inability to respond. No one could have trained any of them for this. "Guards get these people to safety!" the King ordered briskly, as he swept his sword to the side, flinging Alien blood from it. "Inside the Embassy, now!" he barked, as the enemy horde surged forward with bloody delight.

"Your majesty," another guard gasped hurriedly, "hurry!" As he spoke, the Alien line warped and shifted. Beings merged together in threes, becoming larger, and presumably stronger. Perhaps strong enough to break through the Embassy's defences. Something which Tchalla could not, and would not allow.

"Get inside now!" he ordered, "I will hold them off for as long as I can!"

"My King-!" the guard protested vehemently.

" _Go!"_ T'challa barked fiercely, "Go! If I do not return," he said gravely as he assumed a fighting stance. "Shuri and Azari are to share my throne!" he roared as the rage of battle assumed him once more. He forgot all about the people huddled within the walls of his home away from home. He forgot about his son, and his daughter. He forgot about his Kingdom. He only focused on those in front of him. The slimy, green invaders from another planet. The tip of his sword scratched the pavement as he charged forward, uttering a prayer to the Panther God of his people, asking for strength in his coming trial.

" _Grrazik bruk-kalma!"_ The invaders chanted hoarsely as they surged forward, firing strange projectiles in T'challa's direction. He dodged, of course, with the speed and grace of a panther on the hunt as he fixated his gaze on the largest green beast. The commander, no doubt. Just the person T'challa wanted to kill.

 _"_ _Kwa utukufu wa Wakanda!"_ he roared as he leaped high into the air, into the midst of the horde. A bloody daze overcame him as he swept his sword left, right, up and down. He stabbed, he slashed. He ducked and pivoted. All the while making his way through the Aliens, one by one with clean percision that had been drilled into him since birth. Within twenty seconds, ten invaders had fallen to the ground, with another two already halfway there.

But his skill soon became a crutch, as he was surrounded by three large bodies. With nowhere to run, he soon found himself clearly outmatched. Every move soon became a killing stroke, as he was left without room to manoeuvre around his adversaries. He severed limbs and knees and necks until something struck him from behind, knocking him to the ground. He looked at his body as a slimy, green substance covered his up to his shoulders, rendering him unable to move. Though, curiously, he was moved into an upright position by the unknown substance.

"Graza neek ku-tan….curious sensation, is it not, Nak-tu?" one of the Aliens spoke, as it dissolved into three separate bodies. Surprisingly, T'challa was not at all shaken by their sudden ability to speak English. What did surprise him was that the Aliens now seemed to be more _humanoid_ than before. Not entirely human, but they definitely resembled one more closely now. Though they were still semi-see-through, and very green. Like American Jell-O. "The amalgamation of a species' languages?"

"Indeed, Gah-zan," a second Alien, presumably Nak-Tu, replied as it too, disassembled into three bodies. This one was slightly different though. T'challa could see a distinguishing crest upon his forehead. Almost like a crown of sorts, which told the Wakandan King that this one was in a position of power. And if he could still move, T'challa would have struck the killing blow right then and there. "Look at the poor human," Nak-Tu cooed condescendingly as he approached the trapped King, "so helpless. So clueless. I almost feel _sorry_ for it."

"You'll be the sorry one," T'challa chuckled as he met the Alien's gaze, "when I get out of here."

"You _are_ a bold one, human," Nak-Tu replied, as the shape of his hand twisted and contorted, forming a long spike, which the Alien cocked back. With a single thrust, Nak-Tu slammed the tip of his spear-arm right into T'challa's faceplate. The weapon shattered against the vibranium metal, and T'challa let out a second laugh as the Alien screeched in pain. T'challa was now assured that he was completely safe, even while encased within the hard, green substance. Since his armour wisely protected every inch of his body that was currently exposed, they couldn't simply pierce it. The only way that they'd be able to harm him was it they released him, which would be a _very_ bad idea on their behalf.

…xxXxx…

"Holy _shit!"_ Jean blurted as she cringed behind a half-wall, which was thankfully constructed out of steel and concrete. More than capable of taking at least a few hits from the slimy alien's gun-like weapons. Her heart was pounding as she crouched low, but it was her _head_ that hurt. Panicking thoughts radiated all around her. And although she had trained herself to ignore the thoughts of other people whenever in a large crowd, at the moment it was like trying to ignore the sounds of Race-cars on a track, or a jet taking off. It was almost impossible, but not completely.

Sweat rolled down her head in thick beads, nearly clouding her vision. She actually had to divert a portion of her telekinesis to 'wipe' her brow so she could think more clearly. Which was almost useless, given just how stressed she was. She was a Student advisor at a privately funded prep school for Mutants. Not a soldier or a police officer. She didn't have an army to lead, or special training in bad-ass 101. She was just Jean Grey. All she had were her wits and Mutant curses to get her, and as many people as she could out alive.

Not exactly a lot to go on.

"Run!" Jubilee, who had been huddled next to Jean, shouted as she practically _pushed_ Jean out of the way. Mere seconds later the wall they had been hiding under collapsed, and the air were they had been was filled with deadly laser-like weapons. "You can run, can't you?" the younger girl cried out as she pulled Jean along.

"I'm in _heels!"_ Jean snapped as something exploded to her left. A display case, containing antique rifles from the civil war, shattered, littering the area with glass and wood chips. "I wasn't exactly expecting to-!" she gasped as she pulled herself and her young friend behind a stone pillar. "-run a _fucking_ marathon!"

"Hey watch your mouth!" Jubilee quipped rapidly, "there's kids aroun-" the tail end of her sentence was cut short by the top half of the stone pillar exploding into a thousand tiny pieces. Both women were covered in a fine layer of dust, and a few pebbles bounced off their heads. Only a few pieces as large as Jean's fist landed with a _thud._ One of these chunks was picked up by Jubilee, who leaned out from cover as her hand was enveloped in a multi-coloured glow. "Hey _bastards!_ Let's play _catch!"_ she hollered as she side armed the rock with incredible speed and precision. Though Jean didn't actually see it, she knew that the rock was glowing, just as the young woman's hand had been. An interesting aspect of Jubilee's mutant powers was her ability to 'charge' objects with pure energy, creating a sort of makeshift grenade, in addition to being able to blast straight energy out of her palms into a multi-coloured beam. Though, a severe downside to that was that she hadn't always had complete control over that ability. More than one person, including Jean, had been injured by accident.

Though now, Jubilee was more than adept at using her powers, as the stone seemed to blow up in the faces of the aliens, giving the two more than enough time to run out from cover once more, into a new wing of the museum. This one was entirely dedicated to the Second World War. Uniforms, weapons, bombs, even a Jeep adorned the space. But it was entirely clear to anyone who entered that the centrepiece was a mannequin dressed in Captain America's uniform. From head to foot, the ensemble was entirely authentic, albeit missing the iconic shield strapped to the forearm. Though neither of them had the time to truly appreciate the sight before them.

Because living was far more important to them both.

"Behind the Jeep!" Jean shouted, as she used her telekinesis to pull down the overhanging plane, blocking the entrance they had come through with debris. At least for a few seconds, they were safe.

Or at least Jean thought, until she realized that there was no other way out of the room.

"Well way to go!" Jubilee snapped as she spun around, obviously hopeful that she might have missed an exit. "Now we're _definitely_ gonna die!"

"Yeah well you're the one who wanted to get into NYU!" Jean replied as she heard the sounds of the Aliens trying to break past the ruined debris of the plane blocking their entrance.

"Sorry for having-" she snipped, only to be cut off by the wings of the plane being blown clean off, and four bloodthirsty aliens charging in. Four, which was less than before. Not that Jean or Jubilee had much time to notice, as they ducked for the nearest cover they could find. The latter only paused long enough to let loose a blinding flash, disorienting them briefly. As both women huddled behind the relic from war, the four aliens spread out, speaking in a strange language as they searched for them. And though the room was large, it wouldn't take the Aliens long to find them, Jean knew that. All the two of them could really do was wait for the inevitable, really.

At least that was what she thought, until a man literally dropped down from the ceiling, crushing one Alien with his sheer mass. One quick glance at the disk strapped to his forearm, and another to the wall caused Jean's mouth to drop agape. It took her a second to fully recover from the shock. And in that second, their saviour smashed the obviously replica shield into the 'abdomen' of one Alien, while simultaneously shooting the other two with extreme precision.

"You two alright?" Steve Rogers, the all-American hero Captain America, asked with an exasperated look in his eye. He certainly didn't resemble the man whose picture was plastered on the walls around them. Not based on his attire, at least. But Jean could see past it, and saw the unmistakeable rugged jawline and fierce courage within. A simple swell of calmness filled her as she started to realize that there was _some_ hope, at least. Their situation was still dire, but not totally catastrophic. " _Are you alright?_ " the Captain repeated, causing Jean to nod her head, still somewhat at a loss for words. Until she saw one of the Aliens rising behind him.

"Get down!" she shouted, grabbing him telepathically and yanking him out of the way, as Jubilee tossed another improvised grenade at the slimy creature, which now appeared to be more humanoid for some reason. Shrapnel peppered the area as the Captain re-oriented himself and fired a bullet right into the 'head' of the Alien, who was still disoriented from the blast.

"Thanks for that," Steve said with a slight heavy pant. He was more surprised and grateful than anything. He knew full well about the existence of 'so-called' mutants, thanks to his extensive research into the twenty-first century. Most of what he had seen and read depicted vicious, nightmarish monsters. But he saw two normal looking people who had just gone out of their way to help him. _There are definitely worse examples of Americans,_ he thought with a shake of his head, _especially when you look at the Government,_ he thought with a slight pang. "We've got to get out of here. Co-ordinate a proper response with local police and military."

"Us?" Jubilee stammered with a raised eyebrow. "No way am I gonna-!"

" _We_ have to!" The Super-Soldier roared fiercely as he gestured to the nearest exit. "Listen here, missy! There are people out there, scared _shitless!_ Men and women and children!"

"But-"

"No," he snarled as he sized her up. "You think you can't do anything, right? That you're just one person?"

"Yeah but-"

"Well I got news for you, girl," he snipped as he stood a hand's breadth away from them both, breathing heavily. "So. Was. I." he said heavily, pausing to let those words sink in. "I was a fragile _kid_ who just wanted to serve my country. Well guess what?" he asked rhetorically, as he stared at both the women before him. "Now it's your turn. Get out there and do _everything_ you can to get people to safety. You don't have to fight. But you can clear a path for emergency vehicles, correct?"

"Yes sir," Jean nodded, as she looked at your young companion, who nodded in agreement before making her way towards the exit. Jean cleared away the debris with a swipe of her hand, allowing the three of them to sprint out of the building with ease, and back out onto the street.

And for the first time, all three of them got a decent idea of what it was really like outside. Building were on fire. Ambulances were screaming in all directions. Someone or something had overturned a police cruiser, which was now on fire with its windows smashed in. It was fairly obvious to all three of them that that had been caused by a series of nearby looters, who were going on a rampage through local shops, stealing anything they could carry that wasn't tied down. "Unbelievable….." Steve whispered under his breath. He had seen some things in his life. Horrible things. Auschwitz. D. Day. Pearl Harbour. And while those clearly outshone what he was seeing in terms of depravity, he was still shocked by the lack of humanity and common sense.


	2. Avengers Assemble (Part 2)

"And we are live on set with Presidential Candidate Ronald Stump," Christine Everheart, a thirty-something media personality and talk-show host for _The Daily Bugle's_ channel. She was smartly dressed with a full bevy of questions to ask her guest. No matter how much he annoyed, disgusted, and leered at her.

"Thank you, Miss Everheart," the ageing man grinned as he waved his hand through the air. Not to the camera, or her, but to the people he knew would be voting for him in the upcoming election. "A pleasure to be here, in the heart of New York, as always." Political bullshit. She knew that right away. All politicians did it, so there was no surprise. She had grown used to it in her many years of being a reporter.

"AH..." Christine smirked with pursed lips, "yes, well...on to the topic _everyone_ is interested in: The Avengers."

"A very interesting topic, Miss Everheart," Stump replied with his trademarked grin as he took a small sip of water. "I think the Avengers represent...in some capacity, the heart of America."

"'Some capacity?'" Christine said with a raised eyebrow, "can you elaborate on that?"

"Certainly," the Presidential Candidate replied with a nod towards the camera. "What I mean is this," he said as he began moving his hands in front of him, trying to put more emphasis his point. "I love the idea of the everyday American rising up to the defence of his country. I really do," the man elaborated in a kind tone of voice. "Living up to the Legend of the Original Avengers, and to Captain America before them is an admirable thing to do," he continued, before changing his tone to a darker, more serious one, "But, the root of the problem lies in their lawless, reckless behaviour. Behaviours which cost people their _lives."_

...xxXxx...

The very building shook violently, sending people and objects flying to the ground. Dust flew free from where it had rested and cascaded downwards like snow on Christmas morning.

But unlike Christmas, there was no joyous singing of merry carols. Only the terrified screams of helpless patients. People who had been wounded within the first few minutes of the invasion, already been sick beforehand, or where desperately looking for some small hope that a loved one was still alive.

To say that it was not a good day would be the understatement of the decade.

"I _need_ some blood over here!"

"Nurse! Give me a hand here!"

"My leg! My Leg!"

"Two more coming in. One's got broken legs. The other a fractured spine. Apparently their roof caved in!"

It was into that chaos that Jane Foster dove head-first. She tackled the situation like she would any other day at the hospital: with one-hundred percent of her effort. She quickly bound her hair in a sloppy, but passable ponytail and waded into the mess that was the emergency room.

"Temple! Pull out the tags," she barked fiercely, snapping her fingers as she picked up a stack of clip-boards. "and distribute them! Red's stay in the building. Yellow's and greens get moved to the underground parking lot!" she continued as she rushed past a man whose legs had been severed. "Wilson, get your team together and set up down there."

"Doctor," Page Wilson, Jane's second-in-command at the moment said, more patiently than Jane could ever have mustered. "The parking lot is too exposed, ma'am. Even if we sterilize it-."

"We're already at capacity," Jane replied briskly, as she began flipping through files, trying to discern who should be seen first. "And the action is far enough away that we should have time to react if things get ugly again. _And,"_ she said as she faced her fellow doctor once more. "The concrete should be strong enough to protect you all. It's the best I can do," she said as she waved a hand, dismissing the woman to find her scattered team. Jane shook her head, looking around, searching for her other underling, who she hadn't actually seen since earlier in the morning, before all the craziness had started.

"Has anyone seen _Blake?"_ Jane hollered at the top of her lungs, over the hustle of over a hundred people moving about. "Anyone? Blake? I need him here now!"

"I saw him head for the back door," a random orderly chirped up from Jane's far right. "Right when things got rough he made a break for it. He-."

"He wouldn't just leave!" Jane shouted as she tossed aside three clip-boards, fuming in anger as she cast one more look around for Donald Blake. "He can't! He-!" Jane took in a deep breath, trying to keep herself under control. She knew Donald Blake. She knew who he was, and what kind of man he was. And it wasn't exactly a surprise that he'd run off on her like that.

"Maybe he's got family?" someone else offered sheepishly. Jane immediately dismissed this, knowing that wasn't the fact. Blake had told her about his family situation. And it was a _very_ complicated one. So complicated that Jane knew he hadn't spoken to his Father in years.

"Yeah," Page huffed lightly, "Yeah. A few went home, Jane. To check on their family. I know I sent Jessica to go check on her Bro-" Jane never got to hear the rest of the woman's sentence. She was cut off by a gigantic metal body flying through the building. Two gigantic holes were carved in the walls by it's sheer mass, which Jane couldn't even begin to comprehend. What she could see resembled a human leg, and it was easily twice the size of a pickup truck. Motors and gears whirred in protest, as if they were under a great deal of strain. Which was no surprise, given the object's sheer mass, and plus the fact that it seemed to be fighting something off.

Between her heartbeats, Jane realized that it was a _miracle_ that whatever it was had not landed on anyone. Even as it whirred to life again, no one was caught in its wake. And the loud noises of a titanic battle was all that was needed to bring the woman back to her senses. Gone was the thought of a giant robot outside. Only her patients mattered now. "Get _every_ vehicle we have up and running!" Jane barked as she hauled two bedridden women to their feet. "Ambulances. Buses. Any volunteer cars, and get these people off the island now!" No further instructions were needed. Everyone knew what they had to do now, and they did it. No one thought for a second about their own safety, only about the safety of the people in their care.

What set Jane apart from her colleagues was that she knew there was someone out there, looking out for her. Someone who would do everything in his power to stop whatever was going on.

But what worried her more than anything was the thought that even _he_ might not be enough.

…xxXxx…

"Jeezus!" Jean Gray sputtered as the ground to her far left exploded, causing her to flinch, and nearly drop the car she was trying to lift to safety. The family trapped inside screamed in terror as their bright blue vehicle dropped a few inches before Jean recovered, and methodically brought them to relative safety. They of course bolted once they were able to open the doors safely. Only the youngest girl spared her a second glance, which Jean had no time to comprehend. Here she was, a recent college graduate working as a student advisor for a school for Mutants, on a week-long excursion to New York City to help one of her friends/charges properly select a post-secondary education.

And yet, she was currently involved in what she could only describe as Armageddon meets a Horror Film. In the past half an hour she had done things she had never thought would be possible in the slightest. She was moving cars and trucks. She was suing her powers to construct rudimentary shields for herself, Jubilee and Captain America himself.

If it wasn't so horrifying, it would be exhilarating. Every fibre of her being was filled with adrenaline as she worked her way through the city, block by block, helping in every way she could.

"We can't keep this pace up forever!" Steve Rogers hollered as he bashed one of the Aliens, who still resembled human-shaped blobs of green Jell-O, backwards into a wall. " _HRAK!"_ he grunted as he shoved the rim of his shield into the throat area of the Alien, killing it instantly. Though Jean was appalled by his brutality, she realized it was both a necessity and a natural response for a soldier like him. "I'm down to my last clip, and this piece of junk doesn't hold a candle to my _real_ shield," he finished as he indicated slightly to the dented replica in his hands.

"Well I don't see any _DeLorean's_ around," Jubilee quipped sarcastically as she hauled an old man out from underneath a half-fallen tree. Thankfully, most of the tree had landed on a parked car, and not him. The younger girl only had to break off a few branches in order to free him. Though he did require some assistance in standing. Which Jean provided as best she could, donating a fraction of her telepathy to literally binding his broken leg together, creating a temporary 'cast' of sorts so that he could do more than just hobble along in pain. "And unless you think that Port-a-Potty is a well-disguised _Tardis_ then-"

"My _real_ shield is back at the Base," The Captain roared as he tossed aside the body of the slain alien. "About six Miles east of here. Not that I'm supposed to tell you that."

"Yeah well I'm committing minor felonies," Jean snorted as she created a temporary barricade between them and the remaining horde with a slab of concrete. "In order to get people out. You gonna arrest me?" she finished as she wiped the sweat from her brow. While Jean was certainly very much in-shape, she didn't know how much longer she could keep her current pace up. The strain on her powers was both taxing and joyful. On one hand, she had never used her powers to such an extent. On the other, she was now more curious than ever to discover just how far she _could_ go!

"No time for that," The Captain gritted as something in the ground shifted. At first, Jean thought it was an explosion. Or perhaps another impact landing. But then there came a second, follow-up _Boom._ The wind blew back, sending her hair flying into her face and obscuring her vision. A third _boom_ followed, this one louder than before. Something big was definitely on its way. Jean squinted her eyes, looking down the long street as a reddish blur flew into view. She couldn't quite make it out at first, it was too far away. All she could tell was that it was vaguely man-shaped and seemed to be flying somehow.

"What the _hell_ is that?" Jubilee said with a cocked eyebrow, as she stared at the same thing Jean was transfixed by.

"It _looks_ like a man," Rogers suggested.

"You know any men who can float through the air like that?" Jean replied sarcastically.

"No," Steve shrugged as he rubbed his chin, " _but_ I did just meet a woman who can move things with her mind." he said as the figure drew closer. Over the ambient noise, Jean could just barely make out a voice, but not what was being said. Despite the fact that the speaker appeared to be yelling rather loudly.

"Wait, that can't be-?" Jubilee said as she wiped the sweat from her brow.

"I thought he was just a myth!" Jean replied, knowing exactly what the younger mutant was talking about. "Something to rile up the press and scare crooks!"

"Care to fill me in?" Steve asked as the figure drew closer. But their attentions were soon drawn to what was behind the man. A thirty foot tall green monstrosity. It's hands easily crashed through solid brick walls. Every step it took shattered the pavement. A foul stench arose from it's breath, forcing all three to cover their noses to combat the overwhelming stench. "Get to cover!" the Captain barked as he dived to the side, knowing the creature would soon reach them.

Both girls followed his lead, taking shelter on the other side of the street. And that was their mistake.

A gigantic hand sliced through a nearby structure, causing debris to rain down on the two mutants. Jean acted fast enough to create a bubble around herself. Jubilee, however, was not as lucky. She had to dive out of the way of a large chunk of wall, exposing her to the very real threat of being crushed to death by the alien's foot.

Jubilee even closed her eyes, knowing it was coming. Knowing that there was no way she could escape her fate. She merely accepted it, and wanted it over as quickly as possible.

But death didn't come for her. She opened her eyes again, still in the same place. She looked around, puzzled at first. Until she saw it. Saw him. A man. Around her height. With the build of a swimmer, or a gymnast. Wearing a long red shirt with a torn blue hoodie over-top, and a pair of black jeans. She couldn't see his face, that was covered by a sleeve-like red mask that clung to his skin. Two eye holes had been cut out, allowing him to see.

Also, he was holding the Alien's foot over his head. With considerable effort.

" _Any time now!"_ the man grunted, as his arms gave a shudder. Blinking twice, Jubilee re-oriented herself and sprinted out from underneath the Alien, who roared in protest. The man's shoulders shuddered under the weight of the Alien foot, giving one final push that knocked the beast back into the side of an apartment building.

As it struck, the Alien's body disintigrated into a million pieces. But not after carving a hole in the building. None of them really paid it any attention, however. The Captain was too focused on the stragglers. Jean was busying herself with tending to Jubilee. Jubilee was still caught off-guard by the man's sudden arrival. And her saviour was doubled over, panting from the effort.

"Who are you?" Jean asked pointedly, once she was sure the younger Mutant was alright.

"Man," the newcomer grunted as he arched his back. "Ol' J.J.J sure is gonna be _pissed_ when he realizes he's not as popular as he thinks he is." Steve, as well as the two women exchanged a series of confused looks with one another at the newcomer's seemingly laid-back attitude. "New York City's _personal_ menace, The 'criminally dangerous Spider-Man', at your service," he said as he swept down into a low, almost mocking bow as a gang of Aliens poured in from the next street, chasing a speeding car with surprising efficiency. "'Scuse me, hotstuff," Spider-Man quipped before he extended his right hand with a tiny _thwip_ and took off into a mighty leap after the car.

He landed perfectly and with two more _thwips_ managed to bring down an entire billboard on the green skinned alien pack.

"What the hell-?" Steve blurted with a raised eyebrow, as the costumed man returned to them with a powerful back-flip. There was no way in hell any of them thought that he was a mere human. Definitely a Mutant, given the amount of strength he had just displayed.

"I thought he was just some urban myth," Jean stuttered, losing her composure and wiping a strand of hair out of her face.

"Yeah, well I ain't," Spider-Man chuckled as he rubbed his hands together. "I just came. I saw. And I kicked the Marsh-mellow man's ass, that's all. Now, who the heck knows what's goin' on here?" They all looked around, hoping that the other had an answer. They didn't, but one came sooner than any would have realized.

 _ **KRA-KOOM!**_

...xxXxx...

Complete chaos.

That's what he could see.

That's all he could see.

Kurt Wagner. A circus performer, turned stuntman for small-time theatre roles. Was in the middle of an apocalyptic disaster. He had just finished a performance, dying in a very spectacular fashion when the screaming had started. He'd exited his trailer, parked out back just as a meteor crashed into a building across the street. A meteor. From outer space. He almost didn't believe his eyes, until he saw more coming down. Raining fire down upon downtown New York.

"Mein Gott!" Kurt practically screamed as a fire quickly spread. Thanks in part to a crashed pickup truck nearby, with it's gasoline providing an excellent accelerator. He practically _tore_ what remained of his costume off, leaving him in only a pair of shorts and a muscle shirt as he sprinted towards the fire. The ends of his blue fur hairs stood up on end as he neared the flames. By all accounts he should have been running for his life. But something, perhaps the will of god, drew him closer.

Too close. The truck exploded in a fireball, only seconds after something impacted his side, slamming him into the side of his trailer.

"Are. You. Fucking. Crazy?" Those words rung in his ears as he tried to clear his vision, which was blurry. Groggily, he stood up again, faced with a female slightly taller than he was dressed in a pair of black pants and what looked like a torn scrub uniform. Similar to what Doctors and Nurses wore while on duty. "Fuel plus flame equals _boom_ Einstein!" Kurt paid her no more attention than she deserved as a cry for help split the air.

A man was trapped on the second floor of the adjacent building. Flames had spread into the room he was trapped inside. With a heavy sigh and a flick of his prehensile tail, Kurt teleported himself into the building, right next to the man. Who, not to Kurt's surprise, began screaming even louder at the sight of him.

"Get away from me! Help! Help!" The man bellowed to no one in particular. Being completely used to this behaviour, Kurt ignored his cries and scooped him up in his arms before teleporting back outside. The second they were on solid ground again, the man thrust his fist into Kurt's stomach. The blow hurt, easily knocking the wind out of him as the man scampered away. Kurt didn't give chase, it was futile. The man would never go with him to safety. The fact that the raven-haired woman was anywhere near him was absolutely astounding.

"Fuck, it looks like the whole city's gone nuts," the woman spat as she did something that even Kurt couldn't quite believe, which was saying a lot given his appearance and abilities. The woman was casually hovering with her feet just over a foot off the ground. No part of her body was touching anything, and yet she held herself up in the air! " _Damnit_ I'm gonna kill him!" she shouted as Kurt felt tiny droplets of water splash his face. On top of everything, he realized, it was starting to rain.

"Who...?" Kurt stuttered, in spite of himself.

"You haven't happened to have seen..." the woman said, as a nearby door slammed open. Out sprinted a woman in her mid-twenties with striking red hair, and a pantsuit so expensive even Hollywood's most well-paid actors would think twice about wearing it. Kurt himself was sure that the suit cost more money than he ever had ever held, or would hold in the future combined. Kurt recognized her in an instant. She was Pepper Stark, granddaughter of the genius inventor Anthony Stark. There had been a rumour among his cast-mates that she was in the audience, but he hadn't believed them until now.

"You've gotta help!" Pepper yelled as she pointed towards the building she had just come from. "Please... the roof collapsed! People are trapped inside!" she said as tears streamed down her face. Kurt exchanged one look with the flying woman, knowing that he alone couldn't get everyone out. A fair number of them were sure to be pinned under rubble. And, based on how she had tossed him across the yard, she was much stronger than he was. Much better suited to the task. But even if she decided not to help, he knew he would do whatever he could.

"Show me," Kurt stated clearly, starting off towards the door. Followed by both women, thankfully.

Inside, he found a very different scene from the one he had left less than an hour ago. All the lights were out, save for one or two flickering bulbs. Dust hung in the air, nearly threatening to suffocate him to death. Rubble littered the floor. Thankfully he was wearing shoes, so he didn't have to worry about stepping in glass, or any other sharp object.

"Shit..." the hovering woman spat as the three of them spotted a man trapped underneath a large wooden beam. He was completely unconscious, with several gashes to his torso and upper arms. "Blue-Boy, help me lift this. Red," she said, pointing to the young socialite, "pull him out but _keep his head and neck still,_ you here me?"

"Yeah," Stark replied as she cradled the man's shoulders as best she could. "What...what do I call you two?" she asked, nervously.

"My name's Kurt," Kurt replied as he shifted his balance, preparing himself to lift the wood support. He was very thankful that he was in such great shape, or he knew he would never have been able to do what he was about to.

"Jessica," the other woman said with a grunt as both she and Kurt knelt down, wrapped their fingers around the beam and lifted. At first, Kurt thought that the beam was too light. But it dawned on him that Jessica was most likely carrying more than half the weight. "Is he free?" she asked.

"Yes..." Pepper whispered, "he's free...and breathing," she continued as Kurt and Jessica set the beam back down. "But...not right. Something's wrong I think he-" Jessica pushed her out of the way rather unceremoniously in a mad dash to get to the man. She ran her hands up and down his chest and ribcage before planting her ear to his breast.

"He's got a collapsed Lung. I need a pen or a straw. A knife as well, hurry!" Jessica exclaimed hurriedly. Knowing he had a pen in his pocket, Kurt whipped it out in a flash. With a knife, they were less lucky. Jessica was forced to improvise and use a glass shard to make the initial incision. "He's got bigger problems than in glass shards in his chest," she explained with a sigh. "Broken ribs...broken colarbone. Shattered knee... he's lucky to be breathing. We've gotta get him-." She stopped speaking at the sight of two things he never thought he would see. Ever.

Aliens. That's what they were.

That's what was causing this.

"What the hell-?" was all Kurt managed to say before two blobs of energy sliced through the air towards him. On instinct he teleported away in a cloud of smoke. But he had been to slow, earning a singed shoulder for his sluggish reflexes. Nothing he couldn't handle, but it certainly stung deeply.

The second shot that had been fired his way impacted a wall behind where he had been, melting the concrete and weakening the already compromised superstructure. A section of the roof started to collapse, and Kurt had to once more use his mutant power to move to safety. However, this time, he found himself directly in the line of fire.

In the blink of an eye he was encased from his shoulders down in a semi-solid green goo which he couldn't quite escape. No matter how much he struggled.

" _This one has fight in him!"_ one of the Aliens said, " _Doesn't he, Kl'rt?"_ Kurt could almost swear that the green blob Alien was smiling at him as it spoke. " _He fights! Unlike most of the others, who run like cowards!"_

" _He will make good sport, Na'vm!"_ the second alien, Kl'rt replied as it moved around Kurt's trapped form. " _Like the others, perhaps! But first..."_ Kl'rt chuckled as he waved his hand through the air, and a burning pain filled Kurt's body. It felt like a thousand needles were being forced into every inch of his body at once. _"Now...what makes him so special?"_ Kl'rt asked, a mere second before disappearing in a cloud of blue smoke, only to appear a few feet away.

It took Kurt a few seconds to realize what had happened. Somehow, these creatures had managed to _copy_ his teleportation powers.

Not good.

...xxXxx...

" _Hurk!"_ Hank McCoy grunted as he was _kicked_ into the side of a car by a foot the same size of his body. Thankfully, he did way more damage to to car than the car did to him. Being built like a Gorilla/Bear hybrid certainly had it's benefits. His body could absorb impacts like a sponge. "That...hurt." he grunted as he rolled to his feet, only slightly dazed from the impact. He tried to put his analytical mind to work and decipher what exactly these creatures wanted.

It was strange to him that these aliens had arrived in the centre of meteorites, and not on a large war-ship like in every movie ever made. There were no death rays raining down on their heads. Or swarms of hostile ship-to-ship craft strafing the ground, picking off stragglers. And furthermore, they seemed to be totally uninterested in negotiation, which should have been a priority for any first-contact scenario. Which told him that humanity was _not_ the first species that they had encountered. And based on their violent attitude, the first contact had not gone well.

Of course, his theorizing was all moot if he couldn't live to see the end of the day.

Desperately, he had to roll out of the way of a giant foot that slammed down on the pavement. A small tremor rippled outwards from it, cracking the ground as Hank sprung to his feet. He needed time to think, and distance as well. Someone somewhere had to be organizing some sort of strategy to combat these things.

Then, out of the sky came an answer to his thoughts.

A heap of titanic metal landed not far from him. Purposefully, it seemed. It took Hank a moment to see that it was in the rough shape of a man. An Olympic weightlifter would be the most apt description of it's silhouette. But, Hank could not help but be reminded of a Saturday morning cartoon he had watched during his childhood. One that featured shape-shifting robots who disguised themselves as everyday vehicles. Indeed, this newcomer was the size of those characters, and he moved with the same determination.

But that was because he was the Armoured Avenger.

Iron Man had returned.

With a mighty roar, Iron Man tackled the Alien behemoth like a football player would a rival, sending them both to the ground with a mighty crash. Twin blasts of white energy shot out from the suit's gauntlets, striking the Alien in the midsection before tossing the Martian into the air once more with seemingly little effort. A blob of green energy shot out of the Alien's arm, striking the Avenger in the chest area, but he shrugged it off and responded with a volley of miniature missiles flying out from his back.

Each projectile struck home, causing minimal damage to the surrounding area, instead blowing a hole in the Alien monster's 'stomach' area. The being blew apart into smaller chunks, larger than Hank would have expected. Each chunk formed itself into a separate Alien, furthering Hank's theory that they possessed some sort of hive-mind, in addition to their shape-shifting abilities.

Two continued their assault on Iron Man, while the third peeled off and lunged at Hank. He back-pedalled, of course, as two gobs of energy stung his left shoulder. With a roar of pain, Hank picked up a fallen street sign and sunk it into the green flesh like an axe into a tree.

"Please tell me _you_ know what's going on here?" Iron Man's metallic voice said as he rid his armour of the last remnants of green goo.

"I'm afraid not," Hank replied with a heave, as a clap of thunder split the air. Funnily enough, there were no clouds over their heads. But there were some not far away. Perhaps as close as the other side of the Island.

Hank squinted his eyes as he saw the clouds spinning around in a circle, like they were about to form into a tornado. Which was impossible, given the current outside temperature. Lightning cackled at the fringes of the clouds with undoubted power. Something big was definitely going on over there. And they both knew that whatever it was, they should be there for it.

...xxXxx...

"On the double!" Steve roared as he tossed the battered, and now useless, shield replica aside, instead relying solely on the few remaining rounds he had in his pistol. And his fists. Which would be more than enough, especially once he factored in his new-found allies into his strategy.

A hundred possibilities rushed through his mind at once. Most of them he had to dismiss, because they were secondary at best. What he focused on was what was important. First: Why were these things on Earth? Two possibilities occurred to him. Either they were aggressively expanding their Empire, or they were refugees seeking a new home. Either way, they would not be reasoned with.

His allies re-doubled their speed. The young man who called himself 'Spider-Man' was the first to pass him by, swinging on what appeared to be a string of webbing. He didn't pay much attention to that, he didn't care. The young man's speed and strength were more than enough to make up for his eccentricities and laid-back attitude. And the non-stop talking. Though that last bit was both worry-some and bothersome.

"You know, Cap, I'm sure you've gotten this a lot," Spider-Man asked casually as he continued his momentum over a lamp-post. "But... _how_ exactly did you arrive in the twenty-first century?"

"Not now!" Steve shouted as he bounded over a crashed car. The clouds overhead were getting darker and darker by the second, and the hairs on the back of his head were beginning to stand up. And one thing he had learned was that whenever that happened, one had to be extra careful because something really bad was about to happen. He'd lost to many friends while learning that lesson. Good people, all of them.

"Geez, old man," Spider-Man quipped as the two mutant women caught up with them. "Trying to lighten the mood here, 'k?"

"Oh, SHUT UP!" Jean Grey, the red-headed telepath practically shouted at him as they turned down a new street.

"Hey, red, it's my stress reliever!" Spider-Man replied, "I'm not someone with super-cool powers who deals with alien invasions every Tuesday-"

"I'm studying to be a teaching assistant!" Jean replied with a snort. "So neither am I!" She said as Steve caught sight of something odd. A man trapped in a semi-solid green goo. Both bodies and slime covered the ground around him, telling Steve that there had been a rather brutal battle there. And he surmised that once free, this man may prove to be a valuable ally.

The man, from what he could tell, was dressed from head to foot in sleek black armour, which seemed to be modelled after a panther. A sword lay not far from where he was trapped. An odd weapon to be using, but no odder than a Shield, like he had so often done.

"Free him," Steve ordered as he watched the clouds overhead. They were growing exponentially darker and darker by the second. He could hear a voice as powerful as thunder racing through the winds. Even as Spider-Man and the two mutants tried to pry the trapped man free the voice cried out with a powerful roar:

" _ **FOR ODIN! FOR ASGARD!"**_ A crack of lightning split the air. It was so intense, that Steve had to shield his eyes as the energy around him buzzed and cackled. A gigantic machine, the size of a transport truck, crashed down to earth. It had an earthy brown colour, in addition to a slimy green core. Four legs sprouted out from said core, as it tried to stand back up properly. Steve didn't need much incentive to leap into action. The machine looked Alien, and was obviously a weapon of war.

Beside him landed who Steve presumed was the speaker. He was at least seven feet tall, with shoulder-length blonde hair. Crisp silver armour clung to his body, and in his hands he carried a powerful-looking war-hammer.

"Greetings, Captain Rogers," the man said firmly, much to Steve's surprise. He was sure he had never seen, met, or even heard of this man before. "A pity, we could not meet under more favourable circumstances."

"Have we met?" Steve asked pointedly.

"No," the hammer-man replied, "not officially. But your prowess has impressed even the gods of Asgard. Now," he said as he began to twirl his hammer by the leather strap at it's base. "Let our foes tremble at the sight of both Captain America and Thor Odinson! To Battle!" He finished as he leaped off into the air, to attack the machine's centre.

...xxXxx...

"Shit. They got him," Pepper whispered in a low tone, as she crouched down behind a half-wall. With shaking hands, she reached for her innermost pocket, wondering why she hadn't done what she was about to do sooner. Jessica grabbed her hands, though, as soon as she pulled the cell phone out of her pocket.

"Don't," the raven-haired woman, Jessica, hissed softly. "the less noise, the better. Wait here." she said as she motioned with her hands what she was about to do. Or, at least, she tried to. Pepper had absolutely no idea what the woman was trying to convey. She just knew that it was better to leave certain things to the professionals.

As soft as a whisper, Jessica somehow had managed to sneak all the way around the two Aliens, who could no apparently both speak English and Teleport in blue clouds of smoke. And of course, those two were set against the Nurse-Doctor's strange powers of flight and strength. There was no way her day was getting any weirder, Pepper knew that much to be certain.

"Hey, ugly!" Jessica roared at the two Aliens, who both spun around to face her. She smashed a piece of re-bar into the first, sending it staggering back as she ducked under the arm of the second. Her hand brushed up against it's side, and the Alien howled with pain as a brief flash of yellowish light struck out from her hands.

But even that wasn't the strangest thing to happen to her.

Immedietly after she had stunned the two Aliens, something crashed through the side of the theatre. Luckily into the one area she knew was clear of trapped civilians. Not that she would have had time to even check, as her concerns were far more pressing, as she recognized the man-shaped machine.

"Grandpa!" she cried out, as soon as it became clear that he was in danger. Green goo covered the armour's exterior, and although she was far from experienced in matters of combat, having only the most rudimentary knowledge of how his armour worked, she knew that was bad.

She practically leaped onto his 'chest', looking for some sort of way to reach him, even as the arms flailed in the air. Something in his chest sparked. Then it cracked open automatically. Both sides peeled back to his shoulders, revealing Anthony Stark to the world.

But this wasn't the Iron Man people would think of. This man was forty years older. A lifetime of battles had taken it's toll on his body. Scars crossed his face, from when it had been torn apart by a homicidal maniac. His right shoulder was misshapen, from the many times it had been broken by stronger foes. His nose was bleeding from a recent injury, the same with his temple.

But the thing that concerned Pepper the most was his breathing. It was erratic, out of control, laboured and pained.

"Oh my god!" Pepper roared, "he's having a heart attack!" She said, as her grandfather struggled his way out of the suit's control compartment. "Why did you-?" she began to ask as a blue, hairy gorilla-man hybrid approached.

"People-" her grandfather coughed, "needed-" he struggled to say, as he weakly pointed towards the hulking suit of armour. "They needed... _him."_

"What are you-?" Pepper asked blankly.

"I..." Tony whispered, his voice growing weak. "I'm too old. I can't...You can..."

Realizing exactly what he was talking about, Pepper was quick to respond with, "Grandpa, I don't know how!" She looked around, hoping for some moral support from those around her, but found none. "I can't pilot that thing!" she exclaimed.

"You can. You have too."

Pepper took one long look at her ageing grandfather, and made one of the hardest decisions of her life. She knew full well that he'd never willingly leave people in mortal danger. But she also knew if he didn't get help soon, he'd die. That really left only one viable option. "Get him some help," she said ebfore rushing off towards the Iron Man armour. For the first time, she slipped herself into the operator's seat and took full control.

The cool metal was jarring at first to her senses, but it quickly dissipated as the suit whirred to life. Lights shone around her, creating a well-thought out heads up display. A hundred different numbers were displayed before her, confusing the young woman even more. She had no experience fighting, save for a few self-defence classes back when she was a teenager. Luckily, she had help.

" _Hello, Miss Stark,"_ a voice she instantly recognized as JARVIS, her grandfather's personal A.I assistant, said in his usual cultured voice. To her, he had always sounded like one of the characters from _A Knight's Tale._ Of course, every time she had brought that up, the A.I had no idea what she was talking about.

'JARVIS?" Pepper asked, "How do I operate this thing? I-?"

"No need, Ms Stark," JARVIS replied calmly, "I can assume control of the Mark VI, so long as your fingers remain on the controls." The A.I told her, as he brought the suit to a standing position. Pepper tightly gripped the two joystick-like controls which she believed would control the arms, completely floored by how natural this felt. She pressed gently against one control, and the left arm shot out in a powerful punch, shattering a nearby wall. "Miss Stark, Might I request that you refrain from operating the armour until Mr Stark has had proper time to train you in it's usage?"

"Can't he just program you to do it one hundred percent of the time?" Pepper retorted as JARVIS took several steps out of the ruined wall of the theatre, and into the main street. "Have several of you guys fighting at once?"

"Mr. Stark believes in a more human touch," JARVIS replied as both he and Pepper spotted thunder-clouds gathering not far away. "That an everyday civilian would not appreciate our help as much as that of someone who is flesh and blood. Now, please remain calm. We are about to begin flying." Pepper didn't have time to think of a whitty reply before she felt the entire suit begin to rumble as the powerful jets lifted them off the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Kurt, Jessica as well as the second blue-man exit the building and begin to follow in her general direction, which was towards the gathering clouds.

The armour was faster than they were, but not by much.

...xxXxx...

"Were the hell are they going?" Kurt practically shouted as the massive suit of armour took off into the skies.

'I don't know," Hank McCoy, the only other Mutant in the world that Kurt had met who also had blue fur said hastily. "But I'm fairly certain we should follow her. Whatever is causing this is sure to be there."

"And you think it's a good idea for us to follow?" Kurt said, rather pointedly. He'd tried to help so many people before and wound up getting burned every single time that he was extremely cautious about doing it again.

"People need help," Jessica said with a shrug.

"Then you go," Kurt half-snapped to her, "you're not a freak-show who the MRD's gonna hunt down the second this is all over." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the corner of her mouth twinge slightly. She was obviously repressing an angry outburst of some sort, but he really didn't care. She couldn't possibly know what it was like to be him.

"to help, while knowing the outcome would be the more honourable thing," Hank said softly, with a heavy sigh, as the two of them watched Jessica race into the sky after the armoured suit. "And one action may be all that is needed for a better tomorrow for the likes of us."

'It's today I'm worried about," Kurt replied with a flick of his tail. "But... if it'll make a difference for the rest of us..." he sighed before breaking into a swift run towards the action.

...xxXxx...

"Rock Giants crumble before the might of Mjolnïr!" Thor roared at the top of his breath as he smashed his mighty hammer into the legs of the Alien war machine. It shuddered, but did not break. On either side of him fellow warriors fought bravely against the few remaining Aliens. In the back of his mind, Thor knew that this was perhaps the last pocket of resistance they would face. However, it was also the largest, and most fearsome.

Four Alien behemoths battled the red-headed woman, the one who called himself 'the black Panther King' and Captain America. Whilst the one who called himself 'Spider-Man attempted to bring down the tripod with the string he produced from his wrists. He had been having the same amount of luck that Thor had. "Why these beasts do not yield doth escape me!"

"Geez, what is this?"Spider-man asked as he gave a quick tug against the tripod's leg, "bad Shakespeare rendition day? You look like a reject from a community production of Camelot!" the young man quipped as he was forced to leap back, out of the way of a flailing tentacle. "And this dude's a bit pissed he missed out on his chance to be in _War of the Worlds_."

"Nay!" Thor bellowed at the top of his lungs, once more smashing the head of Mjolnïr into one of the legs of the tripod, "he shall be weeping in agony!"

"Yeah, yeah," Spider-man quipped as something large flew overhead. A monster of sorts, larger than a Frost Giant. It landed not far away, and Thor could see it's skin was made of metal. It was some sort of machine. Fire shot out from it's palms, blasting two of the behemoth's backwards. Caught up in complete awe, both Thor and Spider-man dropped their guard, which allowed the tripod to spit out two more tentacles and grab them firmly.

Being the warrior he was, of course the son of Odin fought his captor with everything he had. He could not swing his hammer, as the tentacle was wrapped around his arms. So while the thunder and lightning roared in protest, they did not strike the monstrosity. Even with all his strength, he could not break free, though not for lack of trying.

Even their companions below did their best to get them free. Captain America's shield struck the tentacle holding Thor in place, sinking in deep and getting stuck there for his efforts. The Iron Giant blasted it as best as it could as well, but to no avail. The two attacks only served one purpose: to anger the tripod into squeezing it's companions even tighter.

The world was going black around him. The pain was indeed overwhelming. He could almost see the house of his father before him when a voice as high and clear as the shattering of glass pierced the air.

"Hey, ugly!" a woman cried out from above. He turned to look, but was to slow. She had become a blur as she flew down at an incredible speed, with her fist cocked back. She struck the side of the tripod like a bolt of lightning, the force of her blow creating a ripple in the air.

"Oh shit." Spider-Man quipped as the woman delivered a succession of powerful, shattering blows to the tripod's main body. "Cover your ears."

" _DON'T!"_

 _ **CRACK!**_

" _FUCKING!"_

 _ **SLAM!**_

" _TOUCH!"_

 _ **FWA-KOOM!**_

" _MY!"_

 _ **BRA-BOOM!**_

" _BABY!"_

 _ **SMACK!**_

" _BROTHER!"_

 _ **KA-SLAM!**_

With that final strike, the tentacles that held the two of them in place gave way enough for Thor to break free, and finally swing his hammer. Lightning cascaded out from it's head, delivering a powerful, devastating final blow to the tripod. Fire bloomed out of it's side as it toppled to the ground, defeated. The few remaining Alien forces split in two. Half fled as fast as they could while the rest attempted to draw a new battle line.

Twenty of the Invaders remained, howling with rage.

And against them stood the earth's heroes. Shoulder to shoulder. They were all equals at that moment, as they charged the horde as one.

Nothing could stand in the way of their combined might. The team worked in perfect tandem together, despite their varied backgrounds. While Steve wrestled with two Aliens, T'challa raced up behind them and swung his Vibranium sword through their bodies with ease. Jean found herself pinned down by hostile fire, until Thor struck the ground with tremendous force, creating a miniature earthquake and knocking the Aliens to the ground. Hank and Kurt made quick work of the remaining Behemoth by having Hank run up it's legs, slashing gashes into the flesh as Kurt pummelled at it's eyes.

They were allowed a brief moment of piece to catch their breath, as one by one, civilians trickled out of their hiding spots. Many of them bearing wounds that needed treatment. But on their faces was a glimmer of hope as they gazed in awe at the handful of men and women who had come to their rescue. A quartet of helicopters flew overhead, signalling the arrival of the army, even as four black vans pulled up.

Soldiers in black armour piled out, encircling them with raised weapons. Hank and Kurt both tightened their fists, knowing they would be the easiest of targets. Steve looked from the men to the furred Mutants, unsure of exactly what was going on. All he knew was he didn't like it.

"On the ground!" one soldier roared commandingly, "now!"

"For what?" Spider-man shot back quickly, "if you're gonna charge us for destruction of property...don't. No way I can foot the bill and-"

"Shut the fuck up," the soldier sneered as he raised his gun once more. "You freaks are gonna turn yourselves over to the Authorities-"

"Like hell we will," Jubilee grunted with a raised lip, as a man in a crisp suit stepped out of the back of the farthest van.

"Easy, easy," the man said as he raised his arms, and signalled for the soldiers to stand down. Which they did. "They aren't under arrest. The President has given them a pass for their the committed crimes," he said in a somewhat casual tone of voice, which seemed to anger some of those present.

"And what crimes would those be?" Jean challenged with a raised eyebrow. The man, however, seemed to ignore her and instead turned his attention towards Steve.

"What Captain Rogers and his team have done here is something special. And after seeing this," the man continued in a warm tone of voice. "I'd like to extend an invitation to all of you. Join us at the M.R.D. and-"

"You've gotta be kidding," both Hank and Kurt grunted, as the former stepped out to confront the man. "There is no way I'd support such a corrupt system with-" Kurt continued to lash out, causing a stir among the soldiers, some of whom raised their rifles slightly in his direction. Tensions rose quickly as the man in the suit tried desperately to keep them under control.

"With your help, Captain Rogers," the man in the suit said as he closed the gap between the two groups. "we can round up the remaining hostiles. As well as any looters and trouble-makers who-"

"And who gets to decide who's making trouble?" Steve replied stiffly, as he took a clear stance between the soldiers and the two furred Mutants. "You? Your superiors? I'm sorry," he continued strongly. "But I see a situation that's gone south. I won't be joining _you._ Now stand down and let us pass."

"This isn't over," one of the soldiers snapped, "not by a long shot."

"Yes it is," Steve replied quickly. "Because you're not going to arrest the Heroes of New York, are you?"

...xxXxx...

 **Two Weeks Later:**

Tony Stark leaned heavily on his cane as he walked down the hallway. His sides hurt greatly, but he had been through worse in the past. But now that he was older, much older, he knew his body was trying to tell him to never do that again. To never don that armour again. Which was why he paused before one of the largest paintings in the whole building.

His old team stared back at him through a sea of time. He found himself recalling their voices perfectly, as perfect as the day they had last spoken to him. So much time had passed, but he knew he would never forget the original Avengers.

"You're supposed to be in bed," Pepper's voice said from behind him. He turned, with the smallest of grins on his lips as she continued with "Two weeks bed rest. That was what the Doctors told you."

"I'm feeling fine," Tony replied, just as a fresh wave of pain lanced up his leg. He did his best to hide the grimace, but his granddaughter knew him to well and saw right through the facade. She ran a hand through her ginger hair as she moved to be at his side, holding him steady.

"Lets get you a chair," she said with a tone that left no room for discussion.

"You sound like your mother when you say that," Tony coughed as the two of them hobbled along. "And my wife, come to think of it." Pepper walked him over to a large recliner and helped him take a seat, relieving him of his cane and making a clear statement without speaking. By removing the cane, she had effectively trapped him in one spot. On a good day he could have made it down the hall without one, but it was a pipe dream in his current state.

"Well we Stark women have to keep a level head," Pepper smiled as she took an adjacent seat. "To keep you Stark men in line."

"Yes," Tony chuckled as he leaned his head back into the chair. "Yes... Pepper would have said that to my face as well. You're just like her," he said as eh briefly closed his eyes, recalling the image of his long-dead wife. "She would have adored the woman you've become."

"You think so?" Pepper asked.

"I know so," Tony replied with a smile, "and not just because you're her namesake either."

"Well I do my best," Pepper said softly, before her expression turned more serious. "Listen... I've been thinking," she said as she put her hand on his knee. "You can't go out in that suit again, grandpa. You'll kill yourself."

"Someone has too," Tony replied with a mutter. "And if it's not me-"

"It'll be me," Pepper said sternly, looking him directly in the eyes. "I think it's best for me to take over the family business, grandpa. I know I don't know what I'm doing, but I'll learn as fast as I can. I'll," she paused and pursed her lips, obviously looking for the right words.

"You'll make a fine Avenger," Tony interrupted as he grasped her shoulder. "I'll show you how. Now," he said as he straightened his back, "we've got work to do."

...xxXxx...

"I get it, Jess, you're still pissed," Peter sighed as he hauled a cardboard box filled with his books onto the table, which already had two boxes on it already. "But are you gonna give it up anytime soon? It's been two weeks."

"It's not just that, Peter," Jessica replied as she sorted through several photographs, plaques and awards he had brought with him. "It's the late nights. The missed phone calls. That's when I worry."

"I'm not fifteen anymore Jess," he said as he began sorting through the books in the box. He placed them into two piles. One for leisure, the other for academics. "You know I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, right?" he asked her jokingly.

"I've made too many promises to too many people about keeping you safe," Jessica said firmly, as she set down the photo she was holding to stare at him directly. He returned the look, seeing just how serious his older sister was when he caught sight of the rare tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "You know that _perfectly_ well, Peter. Dad made me promise. Mom made me promise. May made me promise. And-" She stopped, almost choking on her words and completely unable to continue.

"Yeah," Peter said softly, "I know he did as well. But," he said as he put down the book he was holding and leaned on the table. "This whole brother-sister thing goes both ways, you know that, right? I have full authority to inspect any guy you bring home."

"Mffft," Jessica chuckled as she wiped her eyes clear. "Yeah, I know. I've been doing that ever since you discovered girls. Shaken' em' down and all that."

"No wonder I couldn't get a date to the grade eight dance," Peter smirked as he resumed his unpacking.

"That might be it," she replied with a wink. "I think I made that Cindy girl you liked soil herself."

"Yeah well, thanks for that," Peter replied sarcastically as he finished his sorting, and moved onto the next box, which was filled with old science trophies. "No idea what I would've done without you picking fights with all my potential dates."

"Four girls in six years, I got a little antsy," she said with a flip of her dark brown hair. "Maybe if you'd brought a few more home, I'd have been a little more gentle."

"You know, for someone in her last year of residency at a hospital," Peter remarked with a casual wink, "you're quite the sadist. You need to work on that."

"You're calling me a sadist?" Jessica laughed as she tossed her head back. "I let you move into my apartment rent-free, and you go ahead and say I've got a problem before you've even fully unpacked?"

"I take it back!" Peter said as he threw his hands up in the air mockingly. "I take it back! Don't throw me out on the street, please! Someone as good-looking as I am won't last a day out there in the cold!" He threw a grin her way as the two of them continued to unpack his belongings. It had been a while since they had spent so much time together. Mainly because Jessica was so reliable at the Hospital practically everyone wanted her working for them, which led to a lot of different shifts, and the fact that Peter had only graduated High School a few months prior and had been working freelance work at a local computer shop.

"I meant to ask you," Peter piped up casually, "what exactly happened to your last roommate? What's-her-face...Candice?"

"Total bitch," Jessica shrugged in response. "Was late on utilities and rent a few too many times. Didn't help out around here. Left a mess. Called me a whore once or twice, and tried to force me out of the apartment. So I kicked her out instead," she continued with pursed lips as she tapped the table. "Taught her a lesson she'd never forget: Don't mess with a Cop's adopted daughter when you frequently smoke weed."

"Wow," Peter replied with a slight yawn, "you told me she was stupid. But not that stupid. But still," he said as he rolled his shoulders back, "I'm really glad you're letting me stay here. It makes things a little...easier," he said as he rubbed his temples. "It's getting harder to keep everything under wraps. May was starting to ask a lot of questions I couldn't really answer. I think she's getting suspicious."

"I can tell," Jessica sighed, "even right now, I can see how hard it is for you. At least here you can...relax it a little bit," she offered with a weaker smile, trying to show some strength for his sake.

"Yeah," Peter said as he flashed her a rare, toothy grin, "thanks for that, Sis."


	3. Some Assembly Required (Part 1)

Hank inhaled deeply as he eyed the small class in front of him. He had just finished his first class at the University, and his heart was pounding in his chest. A part of him knew that the day had gone better than he should have ever hoped. Only about three-quarters of the students had left as soon as they caught sight of him.

On the other hand, three quarters of his students had left the class _because_ of him. Because he was so different. And even as his students went about packing their books, tablets and laptops. All the while speaking in whispers to one another. Some glanced up at him, pointing subtly and conferring with one another.

The whole thing was scandalous. Hank had been forced to appeal before a committee in order to even be considered equally for the job. Even with having the head of his department on his side, thanks to an incident several years ago when the two had happened across one another.

But that wasn't exactly so different from every other day in his life.

"Excuse me, Professor McCoy?" a young woman with shoulder-length red hair asked. Clearly she was too old to be a student.

It took him a minute to remember her face. _Jean Grey,_ a voice inside his head said clearly. A mild sensation of disorientation washed over him momentarily. Immediately his brain went to work deducing that this woman was the same woman he had stood shoulder-to-shoulder with a not long ago. And that she was clearly a powerful telepath.

Telepathy among Mutants was, to his knowledge, mostly a rumour. He had heard a few stories about them in the past, but had chalked them up to nonsense due to the lack of evidence. But clearly he had been wrong, and could think of several reasons _why_ there were so few telepaths known.

"Miss Grey," Hank said with a bow of his head. "How did-?"

"Well to put things bluntly," Jean interrupted with a small sigh. "People talk. Apparently having a Hero on staff is good for public image, even if he is blue and furry," she smirked slightly. "Not to mention you're very easy to track down," she said, pausing almost as soon as the words left her mouth with apparent disgust. "I didn't mean..."

"I understand," Hank said, shrugging the comment off with ease. He was used to it. Even the few people he could call friends joked from time to time about how they'd be able to find him anywhere in the world, just by asking people about the 'Blue furry man.' All in good taste, of course. "What can i do for you, Miss Grey?"

"Well," She sighed, "I'm a member of an institution that seeks to help...people in our position. Mostly youth. To help them establish themselves as productive members of society, control their gifts in some cases, and give them shelter when need be." Hank nodded, having heard about several systems in place like that in his adult career. He wished there had been some in place when he was younger, perhaps things would have been different. 'I guess you could say I'm a teacher," Jean continued as she leaned against his desk, "like you...in a sense." Hank cocked his head slightly to the side, somewhat confused.

And seeing this, Jean elaborated with "Most of what i do involves counselling young people. Helping them make the right life choices...keeping them away from certain activities that could be detrimental to our entire... _species."_

"Ah," Hank nodded, "and your young friend," he asked, "she's-?"

"Jubilee was my first long-term... _uuummmm_...'case'," Jean replied simply, "very tricky one to start on, but I guess that was the whole point." She finished with a small shrug. "Of course, we didn't have the best start, the two of us. What with her nicking my whole purse and all. Now she's studying Fashion not to far away from here."

"And is that why you're here?" Hank asked, "to see if I know any-"

"No," Jean smirked in response, "I'm here to set up a Satellite institution for Mutants, at the behest of an obviously very wealthy anonymous donor." She said as she raised her brow in a questioning manner. "Who practically insisted that I be the one put in charge. Or else he'd withdraw his support. And I think this person might have contacted you as well."

Taking in a deep breath, Hank walked around his desk, and reached into one of the drawers, searching for an envelope that had been anonymously delivered to his doorstep. It was a simple, garden-variety package that no one would look at twice, except for Hank, who it was addressed to. Inside, however, was a slip of paper with a series of directions, and an embossed 'A' logo.

...xxXxx...

The hallway was obscenely crowded with bodies as Jubilation Lee attempted to wind her way through the maze of passage-ways. In her hand she held a slip of paper, which served as a map for her to use. All well and good, except that she had no starting-off point from which to navigate. All she had was small numbers on top of doorways, and the occasional quick word from a member of faculty.

It was her first day of a new life at the University of New York, and she couldn't have been more excited for it. All she had to do was find her dorm-room, roommate and get settled in. Not an easy task.

"Four Hundred and three," she whispered as she gazed up at the numbers on the doors, still being careful to avoid the people around her. "Four Hundred and four...five...six...seven!" she gasped as she stopped at the door frame, and peered inside.

It was already occupied by several boxes, most of which were open, and had stuff spilling out. Each box contained more things than Jubilee's simple backpack and rolling suitcase could ever hope to contain. In fact, her roommate, whoever she was, seemed to have more stuff unpacked than Jubilee even _owned._

"Umm... Hello?" she shyly asked, knocking on the door slightly, trying to gain the attention of whoever was inside. Obviously her nerves were running high, much higher than they should have been. _Calm down girl,_ she told herself with a deep sigh, _you just repelled an Alien invasion three weeks ago...you can talk to some new people..._ Of course, her absolute worst fear was that her roommate was some skin-headed neo-nazi type. That fear was quashed somewhat, however, as she briefly examined the contents of one of the boxes.

Vibrant clothing. A mixture of CD's. Three separate wigs. A microphone headset. A guitar. And a large amplifier.

"Hmm?" A woman, no older than Jubilee blurted as she stuck her head out from the kitchen. Her shoulder-length blonde hair drooped down slightly as she looked around, her eyes falling on Jubilee in seconds. "Oh!" she exclaimed excitedly as she fully entered the room, allowing Jubilee to fully take in her punk-rock look for the first time. This girl was definitely very confident in her body. "You must be my roommate...Jubilation Lee, right?"

"Jubilee," she smiled as she stuck out her hand, which her new roommate shook politely. "Don't ask me why they named me that. Must be because I'm Asian or something," she chuckled as she looked around for a spot to place her admittedly heavy bag down. However, every surface seemed to be covered by something or other.

"Alison Blaire," the woman replied with a small smile, before she realized Jubilee's small plight. "I'll uh... try and clear you some space, 'k? Be out of here in five minutes so you and your folks can get you settled in-"

"Not necessary," Jubilee smiled politely.

"No, no, no," Alison said as she moved to clear away a box from the table. "No, I don't mind. I'm sure your mom and dad are gonna want to take-"

"No, it's okay!" Jubilee insisted intently as she dropped her knapsack down. "They're uh... _not here."_ she finished, putting extra emphasis on the last two words, thinking that would be more than enough to break the ice. There was plenty of time to tell her roommate that she was an Orphan, she just didn't think it was proper to discuss it two minutes after meeting.

"What kind of parent wouldn't be... _oooohhh,"_ Alison said, cupping her mouth at the end of her sentence in shock as she obviously came to the realization of what Jubilee had meant. And of course, like with everyone she ever told, there was an immediate swell of pity on the woman's face. "I'm _soooo_ sorry...I didn't know...!"

"Well how would you?" was Jubilee's practised answer, having used it many times in the past when meeting new people. In an attempt to break the awkward conversation away from were it was, Jubilee looked around the room, for a new topic. Something that was less uncomfortable to talk about. "So...," she said tentatively, motioning to the guitar as she spoke. "You play?" she asked.

"Yeah," Alison replied as she walked over to it, "Yeah. And sing. And drums." she continued as she walked around her belongings. "I've got a band with a regular gig," she explained somewhat, "you know, to pay for school. Maybe even for a bit afterwards," she said without pause. "'rent's want me to be a lawyer, like my dad. But that's not gonna happen. So," she said, in an obvious attempt to change the mood to a lighter one, "this all you got? Or is there more coming in from...elsewere?"

"All I own," Jubilee said with both pride and trepidation.

"Uh-huh," Alison said with a raised eyebrow, "and your major is...?"

"Fashion and design," Jubilee replied with a small nod. "I uh...don't suppose you know anywhere I can get a sewing machine though? For less than a hundred?" she asked, almost ashamed of herself. Before, she had always used one of the old ones back at the institute to make small repairs to clothing for other students for a small fee. And every dime she earned had gone towards tuition.

"Borrow mine," Alison shrugged nonchalantly, "I use it sparingly anyways. Just don't break it."

...xxXxx...

Anthony Stark, formerly the Avenger known as Iron Man, leaned heavily on his cane as he admired the faded wooden door before him. It certainly had character about it. Never mind that it, as well as the contents of the apartment it guarded, was worth less than the suit he was wearing. It told a story. It told him that this was someone's home. That it was a portal into their life.

He even smiled as he politely knocked against the wood frame.

No answer.

He knocked again.

And there was no answer.

He knocked a third time. And when there was no immediate answer, he began to pull out a small envelope from his jacket pocket, ready to slip it under the doorway, when it opened.

Due to his back problems, Tony wasn't able to stand up as quickly as he would have liked. Instead it was a slower crawl, as he inched his way back up to his full height. But this did give him ample time to take in the young man standing before him. Faded and torn blue jeans that had seen better days, dirt-crusted shoes, a worn leather belt and a novelty Star Wars T-shirt. Nothing quite out of the ordinary, Tony thought to himself, until he looked directly at the young man's face.

It was shocking, terrifying, and heartbreaking all at once.

Crusty brown skin covered his face, with a layer of white splotchy spots over-top. For the most part, his eyes, nose and mouth remained untouched. Though the only hair on his entire head was from his one and a half eyebrows, with all other hair follicles having obviously been burned off. A curious white line etched itself over his bald scalp, and between his eyes before ending on the left side of his mouth. "May I come in?" Tony asked, knowing full well that he had been staring for far too long.

"Whatever," the young man, Peter Parker huffed as he turned his back and let Tony into the apartment. "How did you find-?" was his first question.

"Your sister wasn't covering her face," Tony explained flatly, as he examined the contents of the apartment for himself. It was mostly modest, with an assortment of personal items littered around. "And since my company designed surveillance equipment for the pentagon, I put it to good use. It was easy enough," the old man continued as his gaze continued about the apartment, admiring the decorative choices. "To find her address. Workplace. Family history," he finished, adding a grave tone at the end, along with a nod. He knew full well what it was like to loose family members like the brother and sister duo had.

"If Jess had been here," Peter replied stiffly, "you'd never have gotten past the door old man."

"I have no doubt of that," Tony chuckled, remembering full well the young woman's display of strength and vigour. She was definitely not someone he wanted to be on the bad side of. He spotted something of interest. A corner of the apartment had been set up as a lab of sorts, with a white board, work-table and computer all in a circle. On the table was an assortment of projects in various stages of completion. This kid was definitely some sort of genius with his hands. Perhaps a side-effect of spending a lot of time in solitude. "She seemed to be very _protective."_

"She's always been like that," Peter replied, still not quite turning his back on Tony. This was, of course, not surprising to the old man in the slightest. Especially after all the information he had dug up on the shared history the siblings had. It seemed as though Jessica Parker had been _forced_ to take on a somewhat motherly role for the period of time that the two had been in foster care, before finding a permanent home and adoring family. And even afterwards, to a certain extent.

"And why do you think that is?" Tony asked curiously.

"You _can_ see my face, right?" Peter chuckled, turning back around to look Tony in the eye. " _Fourteen years old,_ " he said with conviction. "Imagine going through High School looking like Freddy Kruger. Forget going to prom. Or girls in general. Plus the unusual abundance of assholes." The boy said meekly, trying to appear as though it didn't bother him in the slightest. Though obviously it did. "Guess that's why I got so into science and tech stuff. I mean, what else is a teenage boy supposed to do when he's all by himself?"

"This isn't your everyday science enthusiasm," Tony replied, as he eyed one of the white-boards the boy had written on. It was full of very advanced, very accurate mathematics that Tony knew he would never have been able to do at such a young age. This was the sort of stuff he looked for in potential recruits. "This has potential. It's a self-charging battery that extends it's life by half, am I correct?"

"Yep," Peter quipped. "And it'd only cost me forty-five thousand to make a prototype. Another ten to do market research. And that's not even with a guarantee that it'll sell. After all, most companies would loose money in the long run."

"They would," Tony replied honestly, before changing the subject. "So why do you do it?" he asked bluntly. "Fighting crime. Being a hero, when in your own words you said people are just ass-holes who'll just turn around and mock you?"

"Well," The young man huffed briefly, leaning against a wall as he spoke. "I'd say it's because I've seen the ugly side of things. I've seen people do... _things..._ to one another and I'd like to do my part to stop them." A good enough of a reason. Though Tony knew there was much more to the kid's story than he had said. But Tony was nothing if not respectful of a person's past, and wouldn't bring it up unless it was necessary, or they did first. "Why, you here to offer me a job or something?"

"Something," Tony replied.

...xxXxx...

"This is _so_ fucking cool," Peter swore as he walked under the archway of a rather large building. Gold-Bronze plating adorned marble Greek-style pillars. Beautiful white tiles covered the floors. Everything wooden was made out of pure Oak, and had been recently polished. A wonderful aroma filled his nostrils.

He felt like he was simply richer just by standing there.

"Language," Jessica scolded as she walked beside him, and the two entered another room, even larger than the first. "are you still sure you want to-?" she whispered into his ear, low enough so that no one would hear him.

"Yes," he replied stiffly, preparing himself internally for the inevitable awkwardness that came whenever someone new looked at him.

"You sure?" Jessica asked.

"Yes," he breathed slowly, as the two entered a third, even larger room. This one was already filled with a few people, though not as many as he had expected. Jessica was quick to step in front of him, scanning the entire room with an 'I-dare-you' look that he had seen so many times before. In the past it had gotten so bad that she'd made someone actually start crying a little. Of course, the look was entirely justified in almost every scenario.

Dominating the room at a full seven-and-a-half feet tall was the Demi-God, Thor. His thick arms were crossed in front of his chest as he gave a happy chuckle that boomed outwards, obviously listening to someone's story. The Laugh did not last long, however, as his eyes fell on the two new-comers. All eyes soon turned towards them, and Peter felt a familiar weight fall onto his shoulders.

He'd seen and heard it all before, so he simply let his eyes fall to the floor. He hoped that his nearly photo-graphic memory wouldn't catch the images this time, knowing how gut-wrenching they could be to remember. He couldn't do anything about his ears, however. They remained perfectly primed to hear a woman whispering " _oh my god...his face...'_ he winced at this.

His sister snarled "what are _you_ looking at?" in retaliation. Just like she always did.

"Well good," Tony Stark said, somewhat awkwardly as Peter brought his eyes back up, and did a quick once-over of the room. From left to right stood Hank McCoy, a Scientist he had followed for some time, the Red-Head who could move stuff with her mind, and the Asian fireworks girl. McCoy was engrossed in what Stark was saying. The Asian girl was trying to listen. The Red-Head's eyes however, kept flicking back and forth between Stark and Peter, and she even brought her hand up to her mouth, gagging a little. Not maliciously, he knew that much, but the gesture still hurt inside. "At least most of us are here. With only a few exceptions and-"

"Where's the other blue guy?" The Asian girl blurted, "And Captain America?"

"the 'other' blue guy," Tony replied with a furrowed brow, "is proving to be difficult to track down. I've narrowed his location down to the north-Eastern side of the Island, that's all. Our esteemed Captain, however," he continued as he massaged his forehead. "Is being held hostage by the American Government. Currently at a base which I am not at liberty to disclose the location of," he finished with a small sigh, as he gestured to the left, where his grand-daughter stood. Pepper Stark soon took the mantle of the conversation from there.

"If you'd all follow me," Pepper said politely, as she gestured down a long, dark hallway. As they walked, they fell into a double-line as the lights snapped on, revealing Oak panelling on either side. Less elegant than the other room, but no less expensive. "Our main facility is located underground, inside a series of abandoned subway tunnels, which have been modified for our purposes." She paused for a brief moment, before continuing with, "our cellular reception down here is top-notch, however. Thanks to several relay stations that we've installed."

"This stuff must have cost a fortune," McCoy remarked with an approving nod as they continued to walk.

...xxXxx...

John Erikson, an Eight-year veteran of the Navy Seals, never saw the bullet that killed the man next to him coming. He barely even heard it. What tipped him off that something was wrong was the wet _smack_ that the man's body made when it hit the ground. That was when his training kicked in, and he dropped down to the ground and popped the safety off his rifle, searching for a target.

There was nothing for miles, he knew that. No cities. No Highways. So there were plenty of places for potential attackers to hide.

He reached for his radio, paging for help. But a thick static filled the channel, and he knew no help would come, unless it was a miracle from God himself.

All he could do was lay as quietly as possible, hoping to remain unseen in the darkness as two figures came into view. John trained his field recorder on them, knowing the boys back at the base would want to take a look at what he was seeing. Hell, maybe even the Joint Chiefs would be watching this soon enough. One was a man dressed in dark grey combat fatigues, with a minimalist bulletproof vest. He had Dark Brown hair that was greying at the sides and a fit physique.

The second was a woman who appeared to be in her late twenties to early thirties. She wore a full tactical black bodysuit and carried herself confidently. Both of the people were obviously military, based on how they carried themselves. But John had never seen them before. And he knew that just because they were military, that did not mean that they were friendly.

Internally, he longed to open fire. He wanted to kill the two of them. But something told him that he should wait, and remain hidden. The only weapon he could see between the two of them was a sidearm, strapped to the mans thigh. Not powerful enough to punch through Kevlar and kill an armoured Soldier. So they obviously had a sniper covering them. A Sniper who hopefully hadn't seen him yet.

"Are we sure this is the right place?" the woman asked.

"It is," the man replied. "My contact is very reliable. And he knows not to cross me."

"It's risky," the woman whispered, "they will be well-armed. And if we're spotted-"

"We won't be," the man said, "the unit has infiltrated places with more security than this. I'm confident the team can handle this without a hitch." With every word, John was growing more and more worried. The complex he was assigned to was the most secure facility he had ever been assigned to. He wasn't even quite sure where he was on the planet! And knowing that these two where so casual about entering it, he knew they were either _very_ stupid or _very_ skilled. And the latter was far more likely. "All communication has been jammed, for the time being. We will be long-gone by the time they realize what I've done to their systems. And it will be longer still until they undo the damage.

"Then we are clear to begin phase two?" the woman asked.

"We are," the man said calmly, before spinning around and opening his palm in John's direction. The soldier only had a split second to see the metal ball rushing towards him before it thrust itself trough his eye socket and into his brain, killing him instantly.


	4. Some Assembly Required (Part 2)

" _Ragh!"_ A fist came flying towards Kurt's face faster than he could react, smashing into his left temple. He spun from the force of the impact, slamming into the side of the metal cage that surrounded the two fighters.

He fought hard to re-gain his constitution, balancing himself with his tail as he delivered a counter-attack to his opponent's stomach. And he continued with his momentum, striking the man in the jaw, sending a spurt of blood flying out of his mouth.

He wasn't one for fighting in a ring. He wasn't one for fighting at all. But sometimes people were forced to do nasty things to survive.

He ducked under a swinging backhand, trying not to think about how winning this fight would mean that he'd get to eat for another week. He couldn't become so distracted, or he risked starvation and eviction.

His fist struck flesh again, smacking the larger man backwards into the metal bars of the cage. Beyond the cage, he could hear people screaming with both anticipation and hate.

" _FREAK!"_

" _MONSTER!"_

" _FUCKIN' MUTIE!"_

He ignored them as best he could, meanwhile avoiding a staggering punch to the jaw as he wrapped the end of his tail around the man's leading leg, sending him crashing to the ground. A bell rang out, signifying the end of the fight, allowing Kurt to relax his body slightly.

He'd won. He'd get paid. he'd get by for another few days. That was all that mattered at the moment.

...xxXxx...

"Who... _what_ could have done this?" was the first thing Steve Rogers said as he observed as he stepped off the jet, and onto a demolished Military Base in the middle of nowhere.

Bodies were strewn everywhere. Walls had collapsed. Vehicles were overturned. Several fires still had to be put out by crews.

"That's the thing sir," Agent Jackson, the man who had brought Steve onto the plane in the first place, said as the two of them observed the carnage. "This place is better protected than Fort Knox. Yet someone steamrolled over it like it was nothing." Dressed in tight black suits, the two men certainly seemed to stand out among the gaggle of soldiers.

Ever since the _incident,_ Jackson had been escorting Steve all around the world to different countries, solving various issues or meeting important individuals. He didn't say anything, but Steve was sure that the man was under strict orders to keep him away from the mainland, were he would no doubt be bombarded with questions about whether or not he was the 'real' Captain America.

He was, certainly. But only a handful of people knew that.

What he wanted at the moment more than anything was to go _home._ He hadn't actually had a chance to visit his old neighbourhood since being thawed out. He'd only seen a drone feed of his old street. Not even remotely the same thing.

"Someone wanted this place cleaned out," Jackson remarked as he casually kicked a piece of debris out of his way. "Someone with a lot of firepower," he grunted as the two of them examined a large, metal door that had been blasted apart by some sort of explosion.

"Rumor has it is was some fuckin' Mutie freaks what did this," a passing soldier snapped.

"Language, soldier," Steve reminded the man firmly. "This isn't an excuse for _that_ kind of language."

"Whatever," the soldier grunted, shrugging his comment off as he walked away, as Jackson tapped Steve on the shoulder.

"Might wanna keep a lid on that kinda talk, Cap," he said cautiously, with his eyes darting left and right. "Not everyone here is so...open-minded about powered people being here. Of course," he continued rather reassuringly, "they respect _you._ Just not-"

"Just not people _like_ me," Steve said firmly, dismissing him. "Why are we here, Agent?"

"Even I'm not sure," Jackson shrugged as the two came upon a heavy door, which looked like it had been blown apart by a massive explosion. Yet there was a surprising lack of shrapnel, or scorching. Completely unlike any sort of explosion he had ever seen before. "Upstairs got word this place had been attacked last night, and wants the two of us to investigate."

"Well," Steve sighed as he leaned down and ran his fingers across the concrete floor. "I'm no cop, but I'll give it my best shot. What _is_ this place, anyway?"

"Classified," Jackson replied stiffly.

"What's inside then?"

"Classified."

"What else do you know about the attack?"

"Classified." Sensing he was going to get nowhere, Steve grunted and looked around for some sort of clue. A sign that someone had used a weapon he could recognize. One of the Television programmes he had become somewhat addicted to heavily emphasized the value of looking over every small detail of a crime-scene. The show's main protagonist would even go so far as to examine minute details in a victim's bones, which could tell a fascinating story about the victim's life.

And here, since he was not going to be getting his hands on any direct information, he needed clues to help him put the pieces together. So he began looking around, with a more careful eye. And he learned a lot.

There were no shell casings. The soldiers at the base had no time to fire upon their attackers, who were obviously very swift and silent. Trained. Organized. Lethal.

He needed to know what was inside the facility. And as he wiped the grime off a small metal plate, he knew exactly where he was going to get his first straight answer.

...xxXxx...

"And you're absolutely sure no train is randomly going to come through here?" Jean pondered out loud as she, as well as Pepper Stark and Jessica Parker, explored the converted railway passage together.

"Fairly certain," Pepper replied with a sigh, pushing back one of the red curls that collided in an oddly smooth way with her African-American features. "I've been down here myself for most of the past week, overseeing the construction. Though," she continued with a small nod as they continued their small walk about, "if you listen closely, you can hear the trains passing by on occasion." The three of them chuckled for a while, admiring the work that had gone into putting the place together.

As a whole, the team had splintered off several hours ago, wanting to explore the different areas of the complex for themselves. So far Jean had explored the kitchen, recreation lounge, sleeping quarters and armoury.

In the latter, she had come across several garish black suits, comprised of a mixture of leather and Kevlar. Obviously they were meant for function over fashion, but surely the richest man in the world could have gotten something _slightly_ more appealing to the eyes.

On the other hand, she had been given a golden opportunity to learn nuggets of information about her new teammates.

As it turned out, despite her inherited wealth, Pepper was very much a self-made woman. She'd already started a semi-successful business by the age of seventeen, one year before she had been given full access to her parent's trust fund. Once she had been given that money, she had expertly used it to expand her existing prospects before beginning to take over portions of her family's company.

Jessica, on the other hand, had only recently completed her final year of medical school. Less than a week prior, actually. Apparently her efforts in the post alien-invasion hospital scene had been crucial. And Jean was certainly glad to know there was at least _one_ medical professional on the team, given what she assumed they'd be doing.

Of course, there was _one_ question that had been idling in the back of her head since the brother-sister duo had walked in. And although she was confident she could just _get_ the information right from the source with a literal thought, it was much politer to ask first.

"Listen," Jean asked tentatively, touching Jessica gingerly on the shoulder. "About your-?"

"If you're about to ask me why Peter's skin is the way it is," Jessica replied, in a practised, yet defensive tone. As she spoke, she planted her feet and crossed her arms pointedly, giving off a _'piss me off and I'll throw a chair at you'_ vibe. Which, Jean realized, would be more humane than what the girl could _really_ do to either of them. "Don't even bother. Because I'm not about to tell you a damn thing."

"We're just curious," Pepper replied softly, "that's all!"

"You and everyone else," Jessica snorted with a hint of disdain. "Look," she continued, gesturing about with her hands. "He's had it _rough._ He was less than a year old when..." a brief pause stopped her words from leaving her mouth. Lips pursed, she was seemingly searching for the right words as the other two waited with some measure of anticipation. "When we where adopted. His _current_ look came later, after he developed incredible _hearing_ and a nearly _perfect memory._ So anything you say to him, even if you think he's out of earshot, he might hear. Fuck," she shrugged with defeat, "he might be able to hear us now. So please, _WATCH. WHAT. YOU. SAY."_

...xxXxx...

Deep inside perhaps the most luxurious building he had ever been inside in his lifetime, while in the very same room as one of his childhood heroes, Peter Parker was bored out of his skull.

It probably didn't help that his brain literally operated at three times the speed of a normal human being. He had a reading speed of close to one-thousand words per minute. His I.Q was difficult for any test to pin down, but his average was around one-hundred and thirty, as long as he wasn't accused of cheating the test, that is. Some, if not most, of his teachers had suggested that he had some form of A.D.H.D. But the simple fact was that he had often been absolutely _bored_ during school. He'd never really learned anything from the teachers, when compared to what he read in textbooks and online.

He couldn't help it! Often, when complaining to whoever would listen, he'd say that it was like reading subtitles on a movie that lagged a full minute behind the audio. The only reason he had gone to school some days was those brief moments of time he could spend in it's library, browsing through whatever book piqued his interest at the time.

Much like he was at the moment. Though in this case it was an e-book. And he was hanging upside-down on the wall, casually skimming his eyes over the words on the screen. Though, the silence was getting to him slightly. So he decided to break it.

"Sweet joint, don't you think?" he said casually to the only other person in the room at the time.

"Agreed," Hank McCoy replied as he stretched himself out, over the couch. Almost like a cat would. "I don't think I've sat on a couch _this_ cushy in years. It's very relaxing."

"No doubt," Peter chuckled, "This whole room probably cost as much as my childhood home. Maybe even more than that," he said as he thumbed himself to the next page. "Anyways you got anymore thesis's coming out, Doc? It's been _way_ too long since your last."

"You read my last thesis?" Hank replied, sounding slightly shocked at this, "as what, a Collage application-"

"Fun," Peter shrugged, "back in Ninth Grade. I was bored."

"...and you read a ninety-page thesis on the 'X-gene'?" McCoy asked, completely astounded. "Unless...?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nope," Peter replied casually, giving the good doctor a side-glance as he spoke. It wasn't a question that was completely unreasonable. However, he had grown somewhat tired of answering it. "Happened _way_ before puberty. Possibly since birth," he added nonchalantly, seconds before the elderly Tony Stark hobbled into the room on his cane. He was followed shortly after by his grand-daughter. His worried look was enough to motivate Peter to descend from the wall.

"You two," Tony growled, "we've been called out. Gather what you need from the armoury and meet me with the rest of the team in _five_."

...xxXxx...

Steve leaned against the wall, outside the room his 'Partner' was currently inside, having a 'private' conversation. Clearly, Jackson thought he was a lot stupider than he was. He knew a cover-up when he saw one. And he knew he had _certainly_ struck a few nerves by calling for Anthony Stark in person.

But his status as a World-War Two hero made him practically immune to the backlash that would have befallen any other soldier. Not that he was afraid of it.

"...I know, sir. He made...yes, I understand that...no, I didn't... _HE_ made the call himself, sir. Without my consent. I..." Whoever Jackson was talking to was clearly not impressed, and certainly not giving him a proper chance to explain himself. Steve even had half a mind to take the phone right from Jackson and explain their situation to the commanding officer himself.

But he was tired of being kept in the dark. And this was his small revenge.

"No, I wouldn't have advised it, sir. But Stark is already on his way here, with company...But as a private contractor, he is entitled to...yes, yes, I know sir. We'll do our best to keep them away from the cells and-"

 _Cells?_ Steve thought with a jolt, as he looked around at the base with a new perspective. He could see it clearly now. The way the walls had been built. The watch-towers with machine-gun turrets. Heavily armed soldiers.

It was a prison. But for who? No military personnel were worth _this_ much trouble. And that really only left civilians.

Not in his country.

In the blink of an eye, he stormed away, wanting to find some new answers for the burning questions deep inside him.

He didn't take the time to notice that he was being followed.

...xxXxx...

"So _what_ exactly happened?" Jean asked blatantly. The entire team was assembled in a long, dark room, which had a state-of-the art jet dominating one-half of it's entirety.

"As I said," Tony replied slowly, "the details are _sketchy_ at best. What I know is this," he said with a small sigh. "Half an hour ago, I was contacted by Captain Steve Rogers who-"

"Captain America?" Jessica interrupted, only to be cut off by a glare from the retired Avenger.

"Captain Rogers informed me that last night," Tony continued with a deep breath, "a military installation was _ransacked._ The intruders made off with something of value, which the government refuses to tell him exactly what it was." The team looked around at one another with trepidation. "I designed most of the security systems they used for the facility. Custom-made," he said as he tapped his cane on the ground.

"So you think you can shed some light on this?" Jubilee asked with a raised hand.

"I already have a fair idea," Tony replied, "but this is a good opportunity for you to work together as a team. Because I will not always be there with you. Today I'm merely going as an adviser...and as a way for you to get inside. Otherwise you'd never get past the guards." Again, every Avenger looked at one another with some reservations. But no one said a word, allowing the veteran hero to continue with "Not everyone will be going today. Most of the time we will split up for smaller missions. So, Mister Parker, Miss Lee and Mister...Thor..., if you please," he said, indicating towards the jet, "custom-fitting suits are waiting for you inside. You need to look the part."

...xxXxx...

"A fascinating contraption," the self-proclaimed Thunder-God, Thor, nodded as he ran his large hands over the interior of the jet, as it sped through the air at an unimaginable speed. His war-hammer lay on it's side, where he had set it down before takeoff. "Though why I could not simply fly there myself-"

"It's the government, buddy," Peter chuckled from his seat, "doubt they'd appreciate it if a guy dropped down in the middle of an army base carrying a giant sledge-hammer that can throw lightning," he continued as he looked around the cabin, at the other two who had come along. Peter was almost as curious about the Jet as Thor was. Jubilee on the other hand, looked like she was about to vomit. "Am I right?"

"No army has _ever_ bested the mighty Thor!"the thunder-god proudly boasted, with an ear-to-ear grin on his face. "Though many have tried!" He chuckled with delight as he slapped his knees.

"Doubt it would be fair to them," Peter offered with a smirk, "even if you were blindfolded. That Hammer certainly is remarkable! May I see it?" he asked politely.

"Certainly," Thor nodded, as he grasped the weapon by the handle, got up from his seat, and walked over beside Hank, sitting himself down between Peter and the Mutant girl. "Though you will not be able to wield it, my friend. For my father placed a mighty enchantment upon it. Only those his will deems worthy may hold the power within." Naturally, both Peter and Lee gave one another a quizzical look. Jubilee still looked green and ready to blow without a moments notice, however.

"So..." Peter asked, with a raised eyebrow, "it's the hammer version of the sorting hat?"

"'Sorting Hat'?" Thor asked, puzzled, "no, my friend...it is a hammer...a powerful heirloom handed down..."

"It's basically alive, right?" Peter replied, cutting the self proclaimed god off again. "If it can think for itself, it's alive, right? That's what you're saying?"

"How the hell can you be having _this_ discussion at a time like this...?" Jubilee moaned as the back of her head thudded against the hull of the jet. She still looked extremely pale.

"Motion sickness?" Peter asked politely.

"Yep," she replied as she closed her eyes.

"Never been on a plane before?" Peter asked.

"Nope." she said, still not opening her eyes.

"First time's always the worst," Peter sighed as he cupped his hands together, "Trust me, on the way back, you'll feel better. Might help if you vomit now, though. It'll relieve some of the sensation." She simple rolled her head to the side slightly and gave him a death-glare before replying.

"Speaking from experience?" she muttered as she massaged her temples.

"I am," he nodded, "travelled around a bit, going to different Doctors and specialists a few years ago, about my uh..." he motioned up and down, indicating towards his many scars. "...skin condition. Nothing worked, though."

"Skin grafts didn't work?" she asked casually, "Even from other parts of the-?" Peter's small look cut him off, as she knew why skin grafting wouldn't have worked. It required large amount of skin to be completely 'healthy'. Something he did not have, apparently.

"Might wanna pop your ears," Peter said to the young woman, changing the subject back to what it had been without breaking a sweat. "Once we begin the descent. Otherwise you _will_ ruin that outfit. Speaking of which," he continued as he reached over to the intercom, which connected them with Tony Stark, who was occupied with flying the jet in the cockpit. "How far away are we?" he asked.

" _Twenty-Five minutes until we begin descent."_

...xxXxx...

Switching off the intercom, Tony returned his attention towards the flight, and the events of the past month.

He was not one-hundred percent sure that this new team of Avengers was up to the challenge. Certainly, he respected the power and abilities a few of them possessed. Thor was an obvious standout, even if his claims about a magical land in the sky were completely absurd.

But he had personally recorded the so-called 'Thunder-God' throwing around bolts of lightning, tossing fully grown men around like they were nothing, and even demolishing an armoured truck with a single swing of his hammer. Definitely a heavy-hitter that Tony wanted on his side.

The same could be said for the Parker siblings. The pair seemed to possess speed and strength that few could match. Barring any potential psychological damage on Peter Parker's behalf, the two would most certainly have been fully accepted by his old team.

It was the others that gave him cause for concern.

While powerful, Jean Grey was largely untested in combat. Telepathy and Telekinesis were certainly useful abilities, but she would be a liability until she could properly harness their full potential.

Certainly the most concerning was Jubilation Lee. Lacking any clear offensive powers, such as lightning generation or super-strength, she was immediately at a disadvantage. But she did bring a certain amount of variety, with her ability to provide non-lethal cover-fire, certainly useful in the hostage situations they would inevitably encounter.

But, he had to remind himself that at first, the original Avengers were not perfect either. There had been squabbling and in-fighting for the position as leader. Several members had threatened to quit over the years. They were the sort of people you would never think to even put in a room together, let alone work to save the world.

So, as he began to descend through the clouds, he put those worries out of his mind and focused on the task at hand. This was going to be the first outing of the 'New' Avengers, although he had elected to leave half the team back at the mansion. A standard practice from the old days, in case some new situation presented itself.

Though nothing could be as interesting as the situation he knew they were walking into.

...xxXxx...

"Easy boys," Agent Jackson assured as he, along with the gathered twenty-something guards watched the Jet's ramp descend onto the ground. Every hand subtly reached for a sidearm as their arriving guests sauntered down the platform.

Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries and the former Iron Man led the way. Even well into his senior years, the old man looked like a predator ready for a fight. He wasn't someone who Jackson wanted to mess with.

Following him was another man of even greater stature. His arms where almost as thick as a man's torso, and he stood two heads taller than Jackson. Thick, bulging muscles crossed his body, hidden only by some sort of body-armour that he wore. Adding to his intimidating nature was the war-hammer he carried at his side.

Almost in complete contrast to the first two off the plane, the latter two were laughably out of place. Kids, he guessed. Perhaps fresh out of high school. The girl was the shortest of all of them, barely reaching five feet tall. And with a hot pink stripe through her otherwise jet-black hair, she looked entirely ridiculous. The boy at least had the advantage of being only slightly taller, as tall as Stark was. But the way his eyes darted from side to side made him look anxious, possibly even paranoid.

"What can I do for you today, Mr. Stark?" Jackson asked with as much of a welcoming demeanour as he could muster. He stuck out his hand for the older man to shake, but was denied with a cold stare.

"You can _cut_ the government bullcrap," Stark snarled as he signalled around. "Ninety-five of these systems are _mine._ Developed by me for one purpose, and one purpose alone."

"I have-" Jackson tried to say.

"Don't lie to me, boy. We both know _who's_ in there." Stark whispered, drawing Jackson in close. Apparently, he knew things that he shouldn't have, by all accounts. In a desperate retaliation, Jackson had to reply swiftly.

"At one point _you_ might have been put in there," Jackson said firmly, "would you and your people like a tour? Perhaps of your new cells?" He'd been granted special permission by his superiors to say that. Because a select few people knew exactly what Tony Stark was trying to do. They knew he was trying to re-boot the Avengers team with the so-called 'Heroes of New York'.

"Are you threatening me, son?" Tony hissed as he leaned heavily on his cane.

...xxXxx...

"Holy fucking shit," Jubilee stuttered as she and Peter stared at the torn-open doorway before them. "It's like..."

"Like someone took a giant can-opener to it," Peter suggested with a shrug.

"I was gonna say a tank shell," she replied sheepishly, "big fucking grenade or something..."

"No residue," Peter said as he crouched down to examine something. "No gunpowder. No scorching. No bomb pieces or shrapnel. Someone didn't want to leave evidence." Jubilee just shrugged and let him focus on whatever he was thinking about. She had no expertise in crime-scene analysis, aside from watching a few episodes of C.S.I. back at the Xavier institute. By all means, she shouldn't have been picked for this assignment, but a small part of her understood why it might be.

Tony Stark wanted to split them up, get them used to working with the people they didn't know. Which was why Jean and Jessica hadn't been asked to come. Not that she minded, of course. It gave her cause to learn something about the people she would be working with.

"You wouldn't happen to have compass on you," Peter asked as he stood up, "would you?"

"Why would I have a compass?" Jubilee replied.

"Just a question," he said as he ran his hands over the metal surface of the door. "You know what a Rail-gun is, right?" he asked.

"No," she replied, "why would-?"

"It's a weapon that launches a projectile using electromagnetism instead of an explosive," he said as he continued to examine the door. She tried to understand what he was saying, but her relatively limited education prohibited her from understanding his point completely. She did her best though. "Like throwing a rock at a window, instead of a bullet." There. Now she understood what he was trying to say. Somewhat, at least.

"So, you're saying someone threw a rock at the door to break it?" she asked as she moved closer, seeing if she could see the so-called 'rock', or whatever had been used to break the door.

"No," he clarified as he motioned towards the hunk of twisted metal. "I'm saying that this door was both the target _and_ projectile. Someone used a big _flippin'_ magnet to fire it like a rail-gun would." He stepped through the hole in the entrance, and she followed him closely, eager to see some clues.

Only for a blaring alarm to go off. And it became abundantly clear what the base was designed for.

"It's a prison," Jubilee remarked with a grimace. "a _mutant_ prison."

"Powered people, more likely," Peter remarked with a small shrug that spoke some volumes to her. "But, given that mutants make up...ninety-nine percent of all powered people, your assumption is forgiven."

"Why the hell is the government involved then? I mean...beyond the norm. There's no need for this...we don't deserve different treatment," she half-snapped back at him. His careless attitude on the subject pissed her off slightly. "Guns and planes and tanks and shit..." she scowled venomously, looking at the base in an entirely new light. "Who the hell deserves _this_ kind of hell-hole?"

"Some people do," Peter shrugged as he resumed his inspection of the torn-apart door. "But this doesn't make sense, the door's pushed inw-!" She snapped and violently shoved him against the wall with a surprising amount of force. Something she had learned how to do very early on. "The hell?" he asked.

"What the _fuck_ did you mean by that?" Jubilee hissed forcefully. "'Some do'? It's inhumane! I wouldn't my worst enemy in-" He pushed back, knocking her off-balance slightly and cutting her off.

"I said ' _some',_ not _'all',"_ Peter said slowly, without much emotion, which only pissed her off even more. " _Some_ people deserve this! _They've_ earned it! Monsters who-"

"Monsters, that's what we all are?"

"I didn't say that!"

"You kinda did, ass-hole!"

"I didn't _mean_ it like that! What I meant was-!"

"Or would you rather we all be put down to make the world a better place?"

"What's going on here?" Both turned to see Captain America looking directly at them, with his hands at his sides and his shield slung on his back. He was clearly not impressed.

And he wasn't alone.

A man stood behind him. With electricity buzzing around his hands. And a malicious look in his eye. He moved with inhuman speed as he tried to make a break for it, lunging past Rogers, who only ducked out of the way at the last second. Jubilee had to duck as lightning arced out from his hands, striking the wall behind her. But Peter proved that the moniker 'Spider-man' was well-deserved and raced up the side of the wall in order to catch the man by surprise with a surprise blow to the stomach. Enough to knock him down, but not out. Both tumbled to the ground, and the escaping man sizzled with electricity, knocking Peter back into a wall.

Rogers took the initiative and charged him, only to be met with a beam of lightning, blocked only by the Vibranium shield. The two were stuck in a stalemate, giving Jubilee the perfect chance to prove her worth as she snagged the nearest piece of rubble, and charged it with plasmoid energy before side-arming it into the man's gut.

He was stunned by the initial blow, and completely floored by the ensuing explosion. Which gave Rogers the perfect opportunity to close the gap between them and knock the man out cold. "Well, that was fun," the Captain sighed as he slung the unconscious man over his shoulder.

...xxXxx...

"No," Jackson said vehemently, as he slammed his hands down on the table in front of him. "No, I won't allow it, Stark!" The two of them had been going back-and-forth for the better part of half an hour, with little to show for it.

"You can't keep this a secret," Stark replied confidently, "not for long. It's too big of a secret."

"You've kept some pretty big secrets in your time," Jackson snapped back, "You're still keeping some, as far as I know."

"My secrets don't involve a revived World-War Two Hero," Tony commented slowly, trying to gain traction in their argument. That was always the key when working with government officials. He couldn't afford to let up on this. It was too much of a golden opportunity. "Or a secret prison run by a privately owned organization being operated and funded by the US government."

"What's it like hiring _terrorists?"_ Jackson asked bitterly, as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "One word from us and your whole new 'Avengers' lineup comes crashing in on itself." Pushing himself forward, so that he was level with the man, Tony growled a low response.

"As far as I'm concerned," he said, whispering into Jackson's ear, "I've got way more dirt on you people that can do a hell of a lot more damage. Remember," he whispered softly, "I know all about those little side-projects. The dead conscripts. Weapon X. Those orbital Satellites. Nothing that you'd want getting out there, I think." the two men stared one another down, waiting for the other to balk.

Only Tony Stark was much more sure that he had won the argument than Jackson was. He had the experience, after all. His confidence paid off, and the young Agent wiped his brown free of sweat as he broke off, saying, "I'll see what I can do...the President wants to keep this private for now..."

"Not good enough," Tony grunted, "We're going public in two weeks time. I want Rogers there at the premier event."

"A premier event?" Jackson scoffed with a twitch of his head. "What is this, Hollywood?"

"A good public image is vital to any enterprise," Tony replied sternly, "Something I've learned over the years. The unveiling is perhaps the most crucial time for any new line of product. That's when most of the public forms their opinion." Tony was telling the truth. He had already diverted close to a million dollars to the event already, with food, staff and live music forming the bulk of the expenses. Expenses which would would be covered tenfold by the product lines he planned to introduce. He'd learned from the mistakes the previous team of Avengers had made, where they had lost the rights to their own branded merchandise, and suffered financially for it.

Of course, this venture wasn't for the sake of profits. He genuinely believed that the world needed the Avengers now more than ever. Especially with the constant threats of World War Three and a complete Mutant Uprising. But, the money had to come from somewhere, and if anyone should benefit from their image, they should.

"I'll...I'll have to talk it over with the President," Jackson said as he rubbed his chin, "It's still a big move on our part...If people found out we'd kept him for close to a year-"

"Tell them there were unexpected complications," Tony replied surely, having spun similar tall tales in his youth. "Health risks. Psychological evaluations. Tell then that being frozen for over seventy years will take it's effect on the body."

"We'll...we'll see what we can do."

...xxXxx...

"Well how'd it go?" Pepper asked her Grandfather as he descended down the ramp of their private jet. As she stood there, Jubilation Lee stormed past her, fuming about something under her breath. Thor and Peter followed shortly, with all three disappearing into various hallways.

"It could have gone better," Tony replied stiffly. "I managed to make a deal with the Government concerning Captain Rogers. However, an unknown number of prisoners managed to escape." Pepper grimaced, understanding his tone perfectly as the two of them continued down the hallway together. "And as far as how the team worked," he continued, "it certainly could have gone _better,_ but also much worse, as well. _"_

"Well you can't expect complete strangers to get along all hunky-dory right away, can you?" she offered as best she could, hoping it would be enough to improve his mood somewhat. "I mean, from what you've told me, you and Mr. Richards where often at one another's throats, right?"

"Perhaps," Tony sighed deeply, "but we've still got some work to do. Especially," he said as he directed her towards the armoury. "On your suit. You still need to log more hours of flight inside it before I'm comfortable-"

"I know, grandpa," Pepper smiled as she touched his shoulder reassuringly. "I know. I've just been rather busy...you know...Running your company. Helping you get this little side-project off the ground. It's a lot to handle in only a few weeks time." She followed him into the room, where a weaponized suit of armour stood in the very centre. It was a very trimmed-down version of the old Iron Man armour, offering more flexibility and speed, though it was equally as durable as his slightly out-dated model.

"Well," he said, as he motioned towards the suit, and pressed a button, opening it up for her to get inside. "You have time now. Make sure you follow the proper flight-pattern." Pepper let out a small smirk as she tossed her jacket aside, onto a nearby table, and stepped into the chrome armour, letting it slide into place around her body as the heads up display came to life.

Powerful thrusters on the boots and wrists fired up, lifting her into the air by a few inches. An access hatch opened in the roof above her, and she rocketed skywards, leaving her grandfather behind in the dust.

...xxXxx...

Erik Lensherr, a disgraced, outcast, former commander of the world's leading military strike-force rose out of his seat as he saw the doors to his hidden facility open up. Three figures walked in, but he did not raise a hand to them, because he knew exactly who they were. And because no one else had any reason to go looking for the base just yet. he'd covered their tracks very well.

He examined the three as they approached.

The first, and tallest, was Elizabeth Braddock, former member of the British M.I. 6. She led the way with proud strides. She was covered in top-notch body-armour that had been stolen the very night Erik had formed their small band of rebels. Sleek black plates covered her chest, legs and arms. Her vibrant purple hair was _technically_ against Military protocol, and would have disqualified her in his eyes, where it not for her myriad of other abilities that more than made up for such a small flaw.

Braddock was a telepath, and a skilled one at that. Though certainly not the most powerful he had ever met, she was adept at using her powers while in the field and on the run. She could render opponents unconscious, hide herself and others from sight, perform basic mind-reading and even exerted some control over others, with some effort.

Her Mutant Powers were matched easily by her skills as a soldier. She was skilled with a firearm, but much moreso in close-quarters combat. Erik believed that in combat, she used her telepathy sub-consciously to determine where and when an opponent would strike. Perhaps she even controlled their moves to a small degree.

Her prowess was amplified even more by the long Katana she carried on her back. Made of the nearly unbreakable metal known as Adamantium, the weapon had performed some astonishing feats. Once, Erik recalled seeing it slice clean through a Tank's armour.

Trailing at the back was a short, scruffy and stocky Mutant named James Howlett. He'd transferred to Erik's unit, mainly because other branches of the Military didn't want him or his thuggish attitude. But Erik had seen right through it to the honourable man inside. And for that, he had earned Howlett's respect and loyalty.

Howlett had proven himself to be a worthy addition to their cause, with his ability to heal rapidly, even from mortal wounds. And he was by no means a slouch on the offensive, either. His healing abilities had slowed his ageing down to a crawl, and he admitted to Erik in private that he had served in several Military's over the years as far back as World War One. Thus, he had plenty of time to master a variety of firearms and fighting styles.

But bringing up the middle was the person he was most looking forward to seeing. He practically dropped his hardened Military persona as he pulled his daughter, Wanda, into the tightest hug he could muster. He hadn't seen her in so long, years in fact. An unwilling separation caused by years of service and greedy scientists wishing to 'replicate' her potent Mutant abilities for Military use.

Not on his watch.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed into her shoulder, letting his emotions get the better of him. "I'm sorry for letting them hurt you. I swear I will make them pay for what they've done to our family and to our kind!" He swore, as both an oath to his daughter and to Mutants in general.


	5. Uneasy Begginings

Everyone sat around a large, round, black-topped table, cast in an eerie blueish light. And Steve Rogers was somewhat uneasy. He didn't _really_ know these people. Sure, he knew their names, and what made them special.

But he didn't know them.

To his immediate left sat Hank McCoy, a doctor in some field Steve hadn't known about two hours ago. Aside from his brutish, animal-like outward appearance that reminded Steve of a man he had known back in the forties, he seemed like a somewhat decent fellow.

Beside McCoy sat Jean Grey. His first impression of her was that she seemed more like a schoolteacher than a soldier. Why she was sitting at the table baffled him, until he watched her casually grab a series of papers with a seemingly invisible hand. That quelled his doubts somewhat.

Then there was the striking brown-haired Jessica Parker. A doctor in training, he had been told. She certainly looked the part, complete with a blue scrub top. And while she appeared to have a warm, welcoming demeanour for the most part, he could see cold steel flashing in her eyes. Coupled with the fact that he had _personally_ seen her pummel a forty-foot alien with her bare hands, he knew that she was not someone he wanted angry at him.

Beside her sat the most bizarrely dressed young woman Steve had ever seen. She was one of the ones that had been brought to the military detention facility alongside Mr. Stark, and even then he had wondered why. Her clothing was an odd mix of colours. Mostly yellow, black, pink and green. She had delicate, young features adorned with what he considered to be garish amounts of makeup. But he fully admitted to himself that he was still unfamiliar with current trends among the day's youth.

Her name, according to a file he had been handed at the beginning of the meeting, was Jubilation Lee. It also said that she was a nineteen-year old college student, and an energy-manipulating Mutant. He made a mental note to ask her in private what exactly the word 'Mutant' meant, as whenever the subject had come up back at the base, hateful glares and swear words had been thrown around copiously.

Next came Pepper Stark, the grand-daughter of Tony Stark, who, as it turned out, was the son of Howard Stark, a major weapons and technology attache he had known personally during the war. The first thing he noticed about her was the contrast her red hair had with her dark skin.

The second thing he noticed was the space-age looking suit of armour she was wearing like a second skin. Such a thing had barely been a fantasy when he was younger. Yet now it was right there in front of him.

After Miss Stark came Peter Parker, Jessica's younger brother. Of course the first thing Steve noticed about the young man was the extremely visible scarring that covered most of his face. He doubted anyone would be able to miss something like that, unless they were completely blind. However, as soon as Steve found himself staring for too long, Peter's eyes darted directly towards him, forcing him to look away.

The final person sitting at the table was...well, _called_ himself Thor, the God of Thunder. That was all that needed to be said, really.

"Fifty percent of all revenue _will_ be given to you, of course," Tony Stark said, droning on from the conversation they were in the middle of from where he stood at the head of the table. "The other Fifty will go towards funding our operations here, as well as fighting the inevitable lawsuits and-"

"I'm sorry," Jubilee injected with a raised hand, "how much money are we talking about, here? And where exactly is it coming from?"

"I don't know how much money as of yet," Tony replied slowly. "However, back in the day, companies were making very good money off our name. Something that I'm hoping to avoid this time around. I've taken the liberty of trade-marking each of your assigned 'code-names', to prevent any confusion."

"Great. Now I'm forever gonna be known as "Wondra'," the young girl snipped as she slumped her head down on the table. "If you could just kill me now..."

"I suggested 'Sparky'," Peter Parker chuckled, "or Rainbow Dash. or Dazzler. Or Light-Bright. Or-"

"Like I'm gonna take advice from someone who runs around in his Under-roos," Jubilee snapped back.

"It's a onesie, learn the difference." Peter replied, before Stark cut him off.

"I'd also much appreciate it if each and every one of you would at least give preferences towards your... _ahem..._ outfits. The last thing I want is you running around in something you are uncomfortable wearing." He said as he tapped his cane against the floor.

"Any reason we have to so flamboyant?" Jessica asked pointedly, looking around the room for some support, and finding it. "Why with all the flashy colours? Wouldn't a uniform design work better?"

"Colours create individuality," Jubilee said, perking her head back up and joining the conversation again. "And it'll make it easier to tell us apart. Plus bright colours are generally more uplifting and positive." Steve nodded appropriately, agreeing with her. He did necessarily want to wear a different colour-set than the one he was used to. Looking down at the file folder in front of him, he examined the printout Stark had provided of his new uniform.

The red, white and blue colours were much more pronounced than before. There was now a star in the middle of his chest, as well as on his head. Hard plates could be seen on the shoulders, thighs and torso, providing extra protection without limiting his mobility. "Plus," the young girl continued, "branding will be much easier. Which reminds me," she said as she turned to face Stark directly, holding up the printout of her own outfit as she spoke. Looking at it closely, Steve could see what closely resembled a diver's suit, with white goggles and thick, metallic gloves. The primary colours he could make out where yellow and black. "Lose the ski mask. No way I want people mistaking me for bug-eyes over there. And throw in some blue, pink and green."

"Understood. Thank you," Tony replied courteously. "Does anyone else have alteration suggestions? No?" he asked, looking around, before continuing with, "then one last order of business: I want you to get to know one another. So split into two groups and go your separate ways, please." Everyone started to rise, and quickly congregated around one another in forced small talk. Steve was approached by Hank McCoy almost immediately. The two of them struck up a quick dialogue, soon joined in by Peter and Jubilee. The last of whom took one look at Steve before opening her mouth.

"We're updating your wardrobe. _Now."_ She said firmly, leaving no room for discussion as she practically dragged him out of the room, followed by the other two.

...xxXxx...

"Alright, we'll do this," Jessica smirked as she sank into the rather spacious couch, alongside Jean Grey and Pepper Stark, and across from the Demi-God, Thor. Each was trying to enjoy the company of one another. For Jessica, it was somewhat of a relief, being able to just relax and be herself completely. Before, she had been mostly confined to keeping her true self a secret from everyone _except_ Peter, and less than a handful of others.

Which was aggravating, because her having Super-Strength could be an asset while working at the Hospital. She'd never been overpowered by a struggling patient. The real struggle came from making sure no patient of hers accidentally hurt themselves by struggling against her iron grip. Which would lead to an investigation and possible expulsion from the hospital from accusations of being a 'freak', as some of her coworkers called Mutants.

Not that she had a problem with Mutants as a species. Just a handful in particular.

"Fine," Pepper grinned as she poured herself a glass of red wine. "A little getting-to-know you game then. Only simple, one-answer questions allowed. And only one 'no answer' allowed. Deal?"

"Deal," the Thunder-God nodded as he too poured himself wine. Though not into a glass, but a large mug. With a few added ingredients from a small flask he produced out of nowhere, of course. "Who shall start?" he asked, beaming a smile around, "I am curious to learn more of your world."

"Alright," Pepper smiled, as she offered Jessica a glass. Which she politely declined with a wave of her palm. "I'll begin...eenie, meanie, miney...," she jokingly chuckled, pointing from one to the other, before landing on Jean. "Moe. How old where you when you discovered your powers?"

"Mmmm," Jean nodded, taking a small sip from her glass. "Thirteen. I thought I was going nuts, what with all the voices in my head, along with all the...other changes!" Small chuckles echoed around the room as she spoke. "My turn...hmm...you!" she said gleefully, pointing as Jessica with a somewhat wicked smile on her face. "You ever...uh...use your electric shock power thing to _get a guy up?"_

"Out of bed?" Jessica asked with a twinge of a smirk, "or while in one?" she elaborated, "because I have woken Peter up once or twice by-"

" _In_ bed," Jean clarified, clearing her throat as she spoke.

"That's never been a problem," Jessica re-assured them with a cocky grin as she pulled back a sleeve, baring her arm, which was more muscled than any athlete's. "When you're built like Rhonda Rousey, any guy's gonna get _it_ up. _Keeping_ him up long enough is another thing, though. Especially when you dislocate his hip by accident..."All three nearly spit out their drinks at this. "But who's next...Thor?" she asked the somewhat flabbergasted Demigod. Fortunately for him, Pepper intervened.

"No, no, no, no," she said, wagging her finger back and forth as she spoke. "No _way_ you get to say something _that_ juicy and not spill all the beans, girl!" Seeing no alternative, Jessica was forced to comply with her demand. "Here," Pepper said, again proffering her a glass of wine, "it'll loosen you up a little!"

"No thank you," Jessica politely declined again, as she took in a deep breath. "First year of College. My first boyfriend that I had when I was away from home, so you know...new rules. New playing field. His name was Chad," she said, recalling the evening perfectly. "Handsome, sweet, played for the school's football team. The whole deal. Anyway," she continued, earning grins from around the room as she spoke. "The team wins big...and the two of us decided to 'celebrate' upstairs once the party starts to die down. One thing led to another, and I started letting go just a _little_ to much as I rode him...and I wound up popping one of his hip joints out of place. He started freaking out. His buddies all ran upstairs, and the only thing I could cover myself with was his sweat-drenched jersey. Gawd that was embarrassing!" She started to blush, and momentarily hid her face with her hand, not wanting to look at anyone until the redness in her cheeks went away. "Now please relieve me from this nightmare..."

...xxXxx...

" _Skill-rex..._ " Steve read out loud, trying to pronounce the words printed on a long-sleeved shirt on display in a store window. "Skrilltrex? Skullrex?" The image accompanying the word was of a pale man with too-long hair, who was flipping him the bird. Why anyone would wear such a thing was beyond him. Then again, most things about the modern world were.

Poking his head over Steve's shoulder, Peter Parker gave the proper pronunciation. "Skrillex," he explained, motioning to the item in question. "He's a musician."

"And he dresses like that?" Steve replied as the two of them entered the store, followed by the two mutants. "Isn't he afraid of being a bad influence?" Immediately, he was bombarded with a flurry of images and colours that defied logic, in his mind. Never before had he seen so much variety in clothing. Colours he didn't even know existed surrounded him. A shrieking sound filled his ears, and he began to search for the source.

Behind him, the other three had a slight chuckle at Steve's predicament.

"Welcome to the modern world, Steve," Hank McCoy chuckled as he patted the man on the back. The Captain's confused expression forced them all to continue laughing as they walked into and around the store. Their presence garnered some attention, which Steve tried to ignore. Though, Peter and Hank were just as aware of the looks they were getting. And both noticed how different they were from the ones Steve was getting.

A quick glance was exchanged between the two, but nothing was said. Even as Hank watched security guards stalk him like predators, waiting for him to give them an opportunity to arrest him. Hank didn't intend to give them that chance, however. He hung back, and kept his hands firmly clasped behind his back as they walked around. No need to take any chances.

Jubilee, however, was seemingly oblivious to this, instead focusing on the self-assigned task at hand.

"No way you're gonna keep walking around in Grandpa clothes," she said as she rifled through a display stand of plaid shirts, handing several to the Super-Soldier as she continued. "It hurts my eyes. And you're not gonna catch many dressed like that, either," she said as she tossed a white button-up shirt his way. "We'll start with these. Go try them on." Utterly flabbergasted and overwhelmed, Steve complied and made his way to the designated change-rooms. As soon as he had left, Hank piped up.

"You're getting him skinny-jeans?" he asked. "Culture shock much?"

"I've got a feeling that's the least of his worries," Peter added in, his eyes darting to the side as a trio of men, each wearing shirts that read 'army', walked in. "I...I...i mean, according to what he told me, he was trapped in ice for seventy-five years! Come on," he shrugged, still keeping one eye on the three men, "that's enough for anyone. And then to have the government spooks keep you locked up like he was?"

"Someone can't survive like that," Jubilee replied as she turned to examine another rack of clothes. "They'd die, right?"

"There _are_ documented cases of people surviving several hours after being frozen solid," Hank nodded, as he leaned over to examine the same table she was looking at, still keeping his hands firmly behind his back. No need to cause any trouble, after all. "And cryogenics _is_ a real thing. People with terminal diseases and such can freeze themselves, and are thus preserved until a cure is found. So," the Mutant doctor said to her, "it is not out of the realm of possibilities. And one can never underestimate the potency of being a Super-Soldier. I learned that when I was going for my first Doctorate, and studied Dr. Erksine's work."

"So you're a Doctor of Superpowers now or something?" Jubilee asked with a chuckle, not noticing that the three men where stalking one of their number.

"After a fashion, yes," Hank replied, "It seemed prudent, given my...affliction."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with you," she replied simply, with raised eyebrows.

"Then would you switch places with me?" Hank asked, in a much more serious tone, that made her pause to mull things over. "That's what I thought," Hank said, straightening his back and looking around. "Hey...where did Mr. Parker go?"

...xxXxx...

"Jarvis seal off all electronic access to this room," Tony commanded as he entered the largest room the mansion had to offer. Back in the day, his old team had referred to it as the Bore-room, due to the long, seemingly unending conversations they had while in it. Those had been the good old days.

" _As you wish, sir,"_ JARVIS replied coolly, _"May I ask what this is about?"_

"The President's Daughter is giving a speech tomorrow," Tony replied simply, leaning on his cane as he tapped a button on the table, bringing a three-dimensional screen to life. "On Mutant rights. Bound to attract more attention than anyone would like."

" _I see sir. And you wish the New Avengers to make their first public appearance, should the need arise?"_

"You catch on quick," Tony replied with a small smirk, as he sorted through various images, most of which were grabbed from the internet. And, unfortunately, most of which contained hateful comments and threats of violence from both sides. Such a hot topic, added to the general unrest of a Presidential visit, was sure to cause some sort of trouble. "And should anything happen, and we be there to stop it," he said, pausing only briefly, "that will surely do wonders for our public image. Wonders which I am afraid we're _going_ to need."

" _You are referring to Doctor McCoy, am I correct, sir?"_ JARVIS asked innocently.

"I am," Tony replied as he continued to sift through snippets of information, mostly chatter from terrorist groups. "He's a linchpin in all of this. Either he makes a bold statement about our inclusiveness," he said as he came across a rather interesting exchange between two Mutant-Hating groups. It referred to a high-value weapon being stolen from Military hands, and Tony had to wonder if it had something to do with the recent raid on the Military Base he had investigated. "or he turns us into a scapegoat."

" _Might I suggest restricting Miss Lee's involvement, then?"_ JARVIS suggested, " _Her psychological profile suggests that she may be prone to emotional outbursts. And given her strong pro-mutant stance-"_

"Noted," Tony said with a shake of his head. "But everyone is going to be involved tomorrow. It's a good learning curve. And she will need to learn to repress those opinions when in the presence of certain company. Because not everyone is going to be so open-minded."

...xxXxx...

Peter silently slipped his hood on over his face, as he tried his best to melt into the background. He didn't need to disappear for long. Just long enough to get out of the store, to get out of _their_ sight.

He slipped out without anyone noticing, thankfully disappearing into a group of somewhat lost shoppers looking for different stores. He walked with them for a few minutes, before darting left, down towards another wing of the mall. He wasn't sure _why_ he had agreed to going out in public like this. He hated it. He hated it because he was cursed.

Cursed with the ability to see and hear everything happening around him.

He heard the screaming of a five-month old baby boy. He saw the pickpocket loot from an old woman's purse as she talked with her friend. He could see a pair of teens making out behind a store display. He could hear the girl's parents' heavy footsteps as they ran to separate the two. He could hear the snickers of two young boys as they made off with a thong from the lingerie store. He watched as an old man tried to walk, even as his whole left side shook with Parkinson's disease.

All these and more he could block out, to a degree. There where things, however, that he could not ignore.

" _Mommy, what's wrong with that man's face?"_ A boy, no older than five asked, wide-eyed.

" _Shh, honey. It's not polite to stare like that."_ his mother said quickly, dragging her son away from him like he was dangerous.

" _Holy shit, did you see that guy's face?"_ A frat-boy type snickered as he walked past.

" _I know, right?"_ one of his friends replied.

" _Uhng, bet he's never even heard of plastic surgery."_ A tweenage girl snipped.

" _Ew."_ An old woman in an expensive-looking coat scoffed repulsively under her breath.

" _Good luck getting laid with that face!"_ a college-age woman said boldly, much to the delight of her friends, who all let out a small giggle at his expense.

They all weighed heavily on him. To heavily. He needed to get away from people. He eyed a new escape route, the bathrooms, and headed right for it. It wasn't perfect, but it was the best he could ask for.

The stalls where mostly abandoned, save for one old man at the farthest urinal. Peter simply ignored him and headed straight for the farthest stall, closing the door behind him and started to enjoy the relative peace and quiet.

He slowed his breathing, wrangling in his high-flying emotions before they got the best of him. His heart rate slowed back to a normal pace as he felt his muscles relax. He wept the few tears from the corners of his eyes as he began to contemplate going back out. He couldn't hide forever.

But then the worst thing that could have happened, happened.

The door to the bathroom slammed open, and Peter heard three men enter. In the back of his mind, he already knew who they were. He didn't need to hear them talk. He didn't _want_ to hear them talk. He just wanted them to go away.

Of course, they didn't. They never did.

"Well. Well. Well." Eugene 'Flash' Thompson, Peter's long-time tormentor snickered as he sauntered through the Bathroom. Peter watched his shadow on the floor, as it passed him by. "Wadda you think, boys? What should we get for lunch?" He continued in a taunting voice. The man had not changed at all since they graduated. Peter doubted he ever would.

"Taco's?" Kenny 'Kong' McFarlane sneered.

"McD's?" Edward 'Eddie' Brock suggested.

"Hmm," Flash paused. For the briefest of seconds, Peter had hoped that their conversation was serious. But that hope was dashed as Flash _kicked_ his stall door open. "All well and good. But I was thinking about some _fried chicken!"_ He said as he dragged Peter out and onto the floor, as he had done so many times before.

"What are you boys doing?" the old man, the only other person in the Bathroom when Peter had entered, gasped audibly. "Let him-"

"Shove it, gramps!" Kong snapped, "go pop a pill or somethin'!"

"Go," Peter waved him off, not wanting him to get dragged into anything and wind up hurt. Which was a real possibility, because Peter knew how violent Flash could be. "Just-" Peter said as he tried to push himself up.

"I didn't say you could speak, extra-crispy," Flash snorted as he gave Peter a mighty kick to the ribs. That might have hurt him a lot more, if the nerves in his body worked properly. Which they didn't, which was somewhat fortunate. "Thought you'd have learned a little respect by now?" he continued as he hauled Peter to his feet.

"Wow, Parker," Brock snickered from over Flash's shoulder. "I think you got uglier, man!"

"Huh," Peter weakly chuckled, "guess my modelling career is over, then..." he was cut off again, this time by Flash slamming him into the sinks.

"Funny man, Parker," Flash grinned as he slapped him across the face. "Outnumbered three to one, and still cracking jokes, huh?" He said as he struck Peter again, this time in the ribs. "Man, I missed this! All that time during Basic training, all I could think about was _this!_ How much fun we had!"

"Ah man," Peter replied, rolling his head as he spoke. "I missed you too," he said, grinning, "how's your jaw? Did it heal well?" He said, indicating towards Flash's lopsided chin and nose, courtesy of him going too far, too often. "I can recommend a few good surgeons." That earned him a hard shove against the wall, and a fist to the face. Again, Peter tried to rise, but his high-school bully was one step ahead of him, and pulled out a lighter.

He lit it, with a devilish gleam in his eye. Peter froze immediately, his eyes focusing directly on the flickering flame as he scrambled to get away from it. He couldn't however, he was trapped against the wall, as images and memories flashed through his mind. His breathing intensified tenfold as his tormentor edged the lighter closer.

"Shit, you haven't changed a bit, extra-crispy," Flash snickered as he waved the lighter back and forth, basking in the terror he was causing. "Still a little bi-!" The door slammed open again, but Peter didn't see who entered, as he was still transfixed with fear.

"Well _hello_ officer," Eddie said enthusiastically. "How 'bout-?"

"Can it, Brock," a woman's stern voice replied. "You, McFarlane and Thompson. Out of my sight _before_ I arrest you all for assault. Now." Though she did not leave any room for debate, the three men remained on the spot. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Flash twitch slightly. He knew the brutish soldier was thinking about how best to retaliate, to assume control of the situation.

"I might be convinced," Flash chuckled as he took a step forward. "If you play nicely and-" Something metallic rustled in the officer's hands. "Well, cuffs, huh?" Flash joked, "never tried 'em before. But if that's what-"

"Get lost. Now." She stated clearly, "before I haul your thick ass back to the station for processing."

"No way you'd get away with arresting a decorated vet," Flash replied in a smarmy tone, "Not even _daddy_ could protect you from that!" He paused for a second, then said, "How is the old man, anyways?"

"Keep pushing," the officer said coolly, "and I promise you'll get a one-on-one with him." Tension hung high in the air, until one of the guys scoffed and they left.

Still out of the corner of his eye, Peter could see the pair of boots on the floor, as they stepped towards him. He once more slowed his breathing as Gwen Stacey, his longtime childhood friend, knelt down beside him. She wrapped her arm under his and pulled him to his feet.

"You could have thrown all three of them through that wall," Gwen said pointedly, dusting him off as she spoke. "Why don't you, Peter? Teach him a lesson that will _stick_ for once."

"It's not right. And we both know it didn't work last time," he replied stiffly, before changing the subject. "So, finally graduated Police academy, did you?" he said, in a much more up-beat, cheery tone.

"One week ago today," she replied with a small grin. "There would have been a ceremony...but all that got thrown out the window when those little green men showed up," she continued as they walked out of the dingy stall. "Wish I could say I took a few shots at them. But you know, I had to hunker down with a bunch of Pre-Schoolers being given a tour of H.Q. Hope _you_ punched one for me," she winked subtly. Gwen was one of the very few people who knew about him being Spider-man. She'd helped him acquire a few necessary tools, and even managed to tap a police frequency, allowing him to listen in for hot tips on any in-progress crimes.

"Still surprised your dad was okay with it," Peter shrugged.

"I think he realized that he couldn't say no," Gwen chuckled, "So he made sure I was put under his command instead. And then decided to make things as difficult as possible."

...xxXxx...

"Alright, Pepper, you're up next," Jessica grinned as she leaned back in the couch, having actually started to enjoy the company. The Ginger-Haired woman smiled as she prepared herself for Jessica's question. "How the _hell_ are you supposed to pee in that armour? Is there like a removable cod-piece or something?"

"Well," Pepper chuckled as she set her empty wine glass down on the table. "There's a fluid filtration system built into the suit itself," she explained, still earning chuckles from those around her. "It takes...whatever kind of fluid is inside the suit and filters out any non-water particles, which are discarded. The remaining liquid then passes into the emergency coolant system."

"So it's pee-powered?" Jean asked, still unable to keep from laughing.

"Well no," Pepper corrected, "only the coolant system receives fluids. All other systems are powered by the arc reactor." of course, this did little to stop the chorus of laughter that surrounded her. So, to put an end to it, she had to re-direct the conversation with her next question. "Thor," she said, earning dead silence as eager ears listened in, "You're immortal, right? How many kids do you have?" The Asgardian pursed his lips for the first time, thinking of the best way to word his response.

Immediately all three could tell that they had struck a nerve with him. Not one that made him mad, but one that hurt deeply. They all knew they weren't going to like his answer, yet they wanted to hear it nonetheless.

"I had a daughter," he said, choking _something_ back. "Her name was Torrun and-"there was a loud BEEP sound, and the voice of J.A.R.V.I.S slipped into the room.

" _Excuse me, Avengers. We have a guest who Mr. Stark would like you all to meet."_

...xxXxx...

"These jeans are too tight," Steve mumbled as he tried his best to walk through the mall, having spent _way_ too much money on outlandish clothing. All of which was either on his person, or in one of the bags in his arms. "And this shirt is too loose," he complained. Much to the delight of his two companions.

"Lighten up, Cap," Jubilee chuckled merrily, "It's current. Hip. Modern. Maybe it'll help you catch some lady's eye," she continued as they wound their way through the mall. While he had been trying on his new 'wardrobe', Peter Parker had slipped out of their sight. Not something one should do on a 'so-called' team-building exercise, because now they had to find the wayward New Avenger.

And while making his way through the different stores, he could not help but notice the stares aimed their way. In the back of his mind, Steve could not help but wonder if this had something to do with his two companions being Mutants. Especially Dr. McCoy, who's outward appearance betrayed his seemingly calm, cultured nature.

He began to wonder exactly _why_ things where this way. He always had wondered that. Apparently, his Army unit had been a very progressive one for his time, with it's inclusion of Black men alongside White men. Of course, he had always looked past the colour of one's skin, and to who they were on the inside. He had hoped that the modern world would share his views. Apparently he was wrong, to a degree.

"Son of a bitch probably ditched us," Jubilee muttered not-so-subtly.

"Be nice," Hank replied softly, "we don't know _why_ he left yet."

"Yeah, I think I do," Jubilee replied with a scoff, and a toss of her short hair. "You didn't hear his whole 'All Mutants should be locked up' bullshit."

"Or he had to go to the bathroom," Steve offered innocently. "Or take a phone call. Or he ran into an old friend."

"Na," she replied skeptically, "I've run into people like him before. He's an ass-hole through and-" All three came to a stop suddenly, with Steve nearly walking right into Hank as they caught sight of their wayward companion. He was walking through the mall, side-by-side with a young female police officer. From their body language, it was easy to tell that the two were friends. And while they were laughing, it was hard for the Super-Soldier to miss the faint trace of blood in the corner of the young man's mouth.

Both Peter and the young officer noticed the group, and turned towards them. The woman was the first to speak.

"So I guess I'm owed fifty bucks," the woman smirked, as she examined each and every one of them individually. "Gwen Stacey, I'm an old friend of Peter's," she explained, "My Partner says that whole teamup thing you guys all did was just a hoax. Damn, I already know how I'm gonna spend it."

"...What?" Hank stuttered, looking confused.

"Dr. McCoy, I'm not stupid," Gwen smiled. "You've got a face that's hard to forget...especially when _technically_ I'm here to arrest you...or the other 'blue hairy monstrosity' that has been 'terrorizing' shoppers. Of course," she nodded reassuringly, "I'm not going to do that. And _you,"_ she said, pointing to Jubilee, "resemble the young woman shooting fireworks out of her hands. And then there's the good Captain here," Gwen smirked as she eyed Steve like he was a piece of candy. "Relax, I'm not gonna spill a damn thing," she said.

"Wait," Jubilee asked, holding her hands up, "How'd you know _him?"_ she asked, pointing in Hank's direction. "And why did you say you were going to arrest-?"

"First off, I said I _wasn't_ going to be arresting anyone...well not him, or any of you, at least," Gwen clarified coolly, placing her hands on her hips as she spoke. "Secondly, I know who Dr. McCoy is because some _nerd_ I've known for almost twenty years hardly ever _shut up_ about him."

"Yeah well I can't help being that cool," Peter replied with little more than a whisper, which gave some credence to Steve's theory that _something_ had happened to him after he had left.

"You. Cool. Right." she replied with a hearty laugh. "Look," she said, still smiling, "it was nice to catch up again, Pete. But some of us have full time jobs and such, so I've gotta split. Say hi to Jess for me!" she said, before taking off in the opposite direction, still beaming a smile their way as she walked. The other Avengers where left in a semi-state of shock.

"What?" Peter blurted, breaking their stunned silence.

Hank was the first to respond properly. "She seems..." he said politely, "pleasant. Is she your Girlfr-?"

"No," the young man replied with a wave of his hand. "No, she's not my girlfriend. We've known each other for to long. It'd be _way_ too awkward. She's like a second sister, really. But I-" he was cut off by all of their cell phones going off at the exact same moment. Knowing that there was no way that was a coincidence, they all checked, and saw the same message, requesting that they return to the Mansion, due to an unexpected arrival.

...xxXxx...

Jessica sighed as the door opened, and in walked Steve, Jubilee, Hank and Peter. A quick glance from her brother, as well as a timely text from Gwen Stacey, told her everything that she needed to know, even before they had all sat down. It was the same room they had been in earlier, though the lighting was now somewhat better.

Once they were all seated, Tony Stark hobbled his way to the head of the table, still leaning heavily on his cane. He took in a few ragged breaths before speaking. "There has been-"

He never got to finish his sentence before the other set of doors where practically _thrown_ open by a twenty-something black male dressed in an extravagant gold-trimmed suit. His hair was heavily styled, and he bore an earring on his left ear. He strode into the room like he owned the place, and plopped himself down between Jean and Pepper, smiling at both.

Of course, every female eye turned to face him almost immediately. So it fell on Steve to ask the obvious question.

"Who are _you?"_

"Azari," the young man replied as he placed his hands behind his head, gazing around the room. In spite of herself, Jessica found herself blushing slightly as his eyes looked her over. "Crown Prince of the proud nation of Wakanda," he said proudly, his voice dripping with an accent. "My Father sent me here, in his place, to lead this team and-"

"You aren't leading," Tony cut in forcefully, still maintaining a polite tone. "The Avengers are a Democracy, save for in the field. There, I've given Captain Rogers," he said, nodding towards Steve as he spoke, "the reins until further notice."

"Hmm," Azari replied halfheartedly as he kicked up both feet, placing them on the table and leaning back. "It's only a matter of time, then!"

"I'm sorry," Peter said with a shake of his head. "But what _exactly_ makes you think you'd be able to keep up with the rest of us?" he asked, getting a nod from Steve and Hank as he spoke. "I mean, your old man-"

" _The King,"_ Azari corrected.

"-had a bad-ass sword and a suit of armour. You've got designer clothes and a funky haircut," Peter smirked victoriously. Almost on cue, Azari clicked his fingers, which sparked with electricity that arced past Peter's shoulder. "I stand corrected," Peter apologized.

"A gift from my mother," the Prince grinned, looking back around the room. Again, his eyes seemed to focus themselves on the women.

"Gentlemen," Tony coughed, re-gaining control of the meeting. "If you're done with your Dick-measuring contest, we have work to do."


	6. The Watchdogs

" _And in other news, tensions between the Human and Mutant communities have reached new heights after the Supreme Court announced it's decision to re-examine Mutant related crimes that have been committed over the past decade. In what is an obvious move to appease the sometimes violent Mutant Community, Lindsay Ellis, the First-born Daughter of President Mathew Ellis, has agreed to speak this afternoon in-"_

"Fat lot of good she'll be able to do," Jubilee scoffed at the television, as she leaned back in the chair. Across from her, Hank McCoy looked up from the newspaper he was reading, with a somewhat confused look. "We'll be lucky if someone doesn't try and _shoot_ her this afternoon!"

"It takes a thousand stones to build a wall," Hank shrugged simply, glancing back at the TV. "You're right. She's not gonna change much with _one_ little speech. But neither did Martin Luther King. Or Abraham Lincoln. They had to make hundreds of speeches, mostly just repeating the same thing over and over again, just to get their point across."

"Yeah," Jubilee nodded back, "yeah, yeah. Still wouldn't be shocked if bullets started flying. 'specially if someone lets the baddies get through on purpose..."

" _Over the past year, rioting has grown more and more violent. Some experts have even predicted a full-on civil war in the next ten years if things don't change quickly."_

"I doubt anyone would want that," Hank offered politely, setting down his paper, freeing himself up to talk more openly. "It's easy for people to _say_ harmful things, to make threats. But only a very small fraction will actually try and go through with it. And an even fewer number have the necessary skills to do so. Besides," he said as he tilted his head to the side and scratched a portion of his neck. "There are sure to be police officers around. And Secret Service Agents. And us," he chuckled.

"Yeah well who says we all can be trusted?" she shot back sharply. "I mean, you didn't hear Peter's whole 'shoot all Mutants in the back of the head' speech. I mean," she said flippantly as she kicked her feet up on the couch. "You'd think a guy who looks like he does would understand what we go through every day. With all the stares, snide comments and-"

"He probably gets it more than you do," Hank replied flatly. This caused Jubilee to stop and scoff loudly, taking what he said as an insult. "I'm serious!" Hank continued, "You've got no _idea_ what I have to go through while walking around outside. _Your_ Mutation is easily concealed. Mine isn't. And he's gotta walk around day in and day out with scars crossing his body, for everyone to see. I guess you didn't see him yesterday, did you?"

"I...you know I saw him..." Jubilee replied, not understanding what exactly he was getting at. The three of them, along with Steve, had gone out in public together. Of course she had seen him. He was kind of a hard person to forget seeing, after all.

"I'm willing to bet you didn't notice the blood coming from his nose," Hank said with a glance in her direction. "Or the fact that he wouldn't look anyone in the eyes, not even his Police Officer friend? Or the distinct tear-marks down his cheeks?"

"I..." Jubilee stuttered, unable to come up with a response. Thankfully, Steve and Pepper entered the room and sat down, giving her a reprieve from her conversation with Hank, which had given the younger Mutant something to think about.

"So they definitely adapted the _Hobbit_ into a motion picture?" Steve asked Pepper, who smiled to herself. "I mean, I always thought that was impossible. Giant Eagles. Trolls. Dwarves. Magic... I can't believe they can replicate that stuff!"

"The _Hobbit_ movies where okay," Hank added in with a shrug, speaking in an entirely different tone than he had previously. "But absolutely _nothing_ when compared to the _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy. When w...Oh my, I remember this..." he said, as the news station they had been watching switched stories. "Tragic," he said.

" _Today also marks the tenth anniversary of the deaths of fifteen police officers and ten civilians, when a Pyrokinetic mutant, John Alderyce, spontaneously set fire to an entire police precinct. Mr. Alderyce's case is one of the many up for review, and has been a topic of some debate between Pro- and Anti- Mutant support groups. Many NYPD officers believe that Mr. Alderyce should continue to face harsh punishment. However, some say that the incident could have been avoided, if better judgment had been used."_

" _It's a classic case of discrimination,"_ A Middle-Eastern looking man sitting on a couch, across from several others, said calmly. _"He wouldn't have been there if the police had done their jobs properly. His lawyer has gone on the record saying that his client was illegally pulled over and arrested, simply because of him being a Mutant."_

" _Well even if that's so,"_ another debater, this one a black woman, said, _"He still killed twenty-five people, and crippled even more. Some sources say a ten-year old was in-"_

"What?!" Steve blurted.

"SHH!" Pepper hushed him, as the debate continued.

" _The punishment still does not fit the crime,"_ The Middle-Eastern man replied, " _Mr. Alderyce has served his time. He lost control of himself. Something that studies have shown can happen to Mutants and their powers, especially in times of great stress. And it's obvious that the Police have it in for this man!"_

" _Mr. Hazati," A one-armed man dressed in the uniform of a Police Chief said, "I can assure you that we have treated Mr. Alderyce no differently than-"_

" _Easy for you to say that, Chief Stacey,"_ the man grunted, _"but it's a proven point that minorities are often treated horribly by those in power. Such as yourself. Furthermore,"_ he continued as he looked down at some notes he had at his side. _"Isn't it true that YOU where at the station the night it caught fire?"_

" _Yes,"_ The Police Chief replied, turning his cheek and revealing to the camera an obvious burn scar that ran up to his temple. " _I was. And so where a few good friends of mine. But I stand by my statement. Mr. Alderyce was treated no differently than any other criminal by the system. Despite what our critics would have you believe."_ The Middle-Eastern man scoffed at this, allowing the woman to speak once more.

" _That concludes our session today,"_ she said with finality, and Hank switched off the Television.

"That was...horrible," Steve said with a shake of his head. "Twenty-five people...in one fire."

"The media ran that story for months," Pepper remarked, "as far as I can remember. That's all anyone in my classes could talk about."

"Not to mention the public outcry," Jubilee added, knowing just how hard the world had come down on Mutants as a whole. She'd certainly suffered for it. "Weren't a few people executed for being Mutants?"

"Unfortunately," Hank nodded, "But still...how horrible. How painful for the survivors. I mean," he said with a shake of his head. "To live through something like that...only to learn that a number of your fellow officer's didn't? I'd be _crushed!"_

...xxXxx...

"Oh _thank god_ you're here!" Jane Foster, Jessica's immediate superior in the Hospital practically proclaimed as Jessica marched through the double-doors as she slipped on the last remnants of her scrubs. "We've been swamped all morning!" She explained as she thrust a series of clipboards into Jessica's hand.

"I'm gone for a few days and the whole place falls apart without me?" Jessica chimed as the two took off down the hall together. "What are you gonna do when I'm definitely gone for good in a week's time?" she said, as two Nurses pushed a bedridden man past them, heading down to Radiology for an X-ray.

"You've got a standing position here," Jane replied with a chuckle, "as far as I see it, anyways. The Board loves you too much, Jess. Shit," she shrugged as they side-stepped a pile of puke. "A few more years and you'd be on the short-list for my job! Once I get appointed to Dean of Medicine, of course," she joked as they turned down an abandoned hallway, which was usually saved for patients that required more privacy. Either due to them carrying highly contagious diseases, or celebrity status.

Jessica had personally attended to more than a few people in this abandoned wing, which was favoured for it's secrecy. Which was a side effect of the hospital never having enough funding to properly maintain the security cameras. On one occasion, she recalled having to deal with the Mayor, and his chief opponent in an election, after they had both eaten the same meal at a charity banquet, and wound up with severe food poisoning.

Jessica also noticed a change in Jane's posture and tone as they continued to walk. Her breathing became more tense, and her eyes darted from side to side. Telltale signs that there was something off about the patient she was leading Jessica to. She was about to open her mouth to ask what exactly what it was, when Jane forced her into an empty broom closet all of a sudden.

"Listen, I'm not stupid. I know that Tony Stark had you pulled from my staff personally. And I don't believe that bullshit that the Board has told me about you being his chief physician," Jane said sternly, staring deep into Jessica's eyes, searching for a truth. "But I trust you to make the right choices."

"Then...why am I here?" Jessica asked with a tilt of her head.

"Because," Jane said with a sharp intake. "There's a case that I think you'll want to look over personally. Maybe even call in a few _specialists,_ if my hunch about your new job is right?" Jessica looked at her for a second, before realizing that Jane had properly guessed about her being one of the new Avengers. Something she took in stride, nodded, and clicked the door open. She followed Jane out, and made a mental note to herself to talk talk to Peter about what _exactly_ they where going to tell Aunt May, because Tony had made it very clear that their identities would be public. Even if they made an attempt to hide them, in the current age of technology, nothing remained secret for very long.

"We got our new patient about twenty minutes ago," Jane said as she led Jessica down a new hallway, this one even more secluded than the last. One security guard stood outside of the only lit room, with his eyes almost glazed over like he was falling asleep. "Very top-secret. Patrick here," she said as she nudged her head towards the sleepy guard. "doesn't even know who's inside. He's been given strict instruction to not let anyone into the room without permission for either _you_ or _me."_

"Okay..." Jessica nodded, wondering who exactly would elicit such secrecy. Seconds later, when she physically entered the room, she knew exactly why Jane was being so hush-hush.

In the centre of the room, lying on a bed, was the blue-furred teleporting Mutant Jessica had worked alongside with two weeks ago. Only with a hundred lacerations, bruises and blisters covering his upper torso. Upon her immediate inspection, Jessica compared his injuries to those of a mixed martial arts prize fighter. Only times ten, and with a car accident victim thrown into the mix.

"I found him out behind a coffee shop this morning," Jane said with a sigh. "He's lost a fair amount of blood, and I've had to clean out most of those cuts...but that's not the worrying thing," she continued as she produced a single sheet of paper, and handed it to Jessica, before walking out of the room, saying, "you've got the lead on this one. I trust you to make the right calls."

Before she could say anything, Jane left Jessica to her own devices. Not for the first time, but it certainly wasn't welcome this time. Taking medical care of Mutants was an absolute minefield in the current climate. Most hospital boards had either outright banned the practice or had unwritten rules about it. On the other hand, some doctors chose to follow their oath to the letter, and did everything in their power to help who they could. Jessica had even heard rumours of a Nurse taking on night time home visits for such patients.

Jessica herself identified with the latter group, taking care of who she could when she could. This had clashed with several other people's opinions, including her Aunt's, when she casually brought up the challenges of taking care of Mutants, as some required special tools and expertise. A lot of people, especially those who knew the bare minimum about her past, expected her to be in the torch-bearing, pitchfork-wielding crowd.

But people who knew her personally knew that just wasn't who she was. Which was why she pulled out her phone and made a call.

...xxXxx...

"Kid, _hit me,"_ Steve barked as he swatted Peter's thrown fist aside like a fly. The two of them where circling one another in a boxing ring, wearing full gear. Though Steve was not concerned for his safety, and more for Peter's. He didn't quite know how durable the young man was yet.

"Hold still and I will," Peter quipped back as he made another attempt at a strike. From the sidelines, four other Avengers, Azari, Jubilee, Jean and Hank, all watched with amusement. Some even offering their own commentary, though all four seemed to be enjoying themselves.

"That's the point, kid," Steve replied as he fake-lashed out with his own punch, which Peter avoided by a mile. The kid certainly was _very_ fast. "I'm not just gonna hold still so you can-" He realized his mistake the instant Peter's fist connected with his stomach. He'd let Peter lull him into a false sense of security, which was when he struck. It made sense, as the kid had supposedly been patrolling the Streets as 'Spider-Man' for the better part of two years. He'd obviously learned a thing or two about how to fight. "So, that's how you want to do things, then?" Steve said wryly as he centred himself, and flowed from one attack to the next. Each jab was carefully calculated to maximize speed and precision, while restraining the amount of force behind them.

To his credit, Peter did an amazing job of keeping ahead of him. His reflexes where something to behold. Steve guessed that he'd never be able to tag the young man in a real combat situation. But, while restrained to the ring, Steve managed to clip him once or twice, until he backed Peter into a corner.

Right when Steve had him where he wanted him, Peter pulled a surprise from his sleeve. He _vaulted_ over Steve's head with seemingly no effort, using the Super-Soldier's own shoulders as a grab-hold. He landed, spun around, and-

"Nice moves _sun-tan!"_ came Azari's voice, which had a visible effect on Peter's posture, that only Steve saw, as he landed a counter-punch. Peter flew into and over the ropes, slightly dazed as both Hank and Jean let out an audible gasp. At the last second, Peter twisted himself in midair and landed safely on all fours. Steve had seen enough of his skills for one day, and removed his gloves.

"You pull your punches too much, kid," Steve said to Peter, who wiped his brow clean of sweat. "I think, if you wanted, you could have had me on the ropes in half a second."

"Heh. Maybe," Peter replied with a shake of his head. "That's the thing, though, isn't it? What if the next person I hit, can't take it? I mean," he said as he wiped his mouth. "You remember how Jess knocked that giant Alien thing back? What do you think that kind of punch would do to _you?_ Let alone a normal person?" Steve understood where the young man was coming from fully, and nodded his approval.

"It wouldn't hurt for you to let loose a little more, however," Steve replied firmly. "You never know how much a person can take until they take it. But sometimes you need to take that risk," he said as he clapped Peter on the back in an encouraging manner. "Take a seat kid. _Azari!,"_ he called out, tearing the latter's attention away from Jean, towards the ring. He stood up, and crossed paths with Peter, who made his way to the benches.

"Let me show you how it's done," Azari grinned, snaking his arm around Peter, and mock-pushing him out of the way. Not that Peter took any real notice of it as he slumped down next to Hank, Jubilee and Jean.

"I must say," Hank remarked, "that was an incredible display, Mr. Parker. I think you'd be the envy of most gymnasts! However," he grinned slightly, rubbing his palms together as they watched Azari argue with Steve over whether or not he needed to wear a padded helmet. "I think I might enjoy this a little more for some reason..."

"You _need_ to put that on," Steve barked shortly, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I don't _have_ to do anything," Azari replied flippantly, "I am the _Prince_ of Wakanda. You are merely a _captain_ in the American military. And I say-"

"Have it your way," Steve cut in crossly, as he unfolded his arms and tightened his hands into fists.

"Knew you'd see things my way sooner or later," Azari grinned as he assumed what looked like some sort of Wakandan fighting stance. Off to the side, Peter and Jean scoffed at his attitude.

"Is it wrong that I want to see him get knocked on his ass?" Jubilee pondered out loud. "Maybe see his nose get messed up?"

"Oh hopefully not too much," Hank added in, as the two men started circling one another. "I'd hate it if his chances of scoring with _Emma Watson_ was ruined..."

"If he's waiting for Hermione," Jean said, as they watched Azari thrown a punch, which turned into an epic fail as Steve knocked him firmly onto the mat. "Why is he wasting his time checking out your ass, Jubes?"

"What?" Peter asked.

"What?" Jubilee snapped, "he's been checking out my-?"

"Since the moment he walked through the door," Jean smirked as they all watched Azari be tossed into the boxing ring's ropes, letting out a small cheer. Azari got back up, so furious that he didn't even stop to listen to Steve's little pep-talk before storming out of the ring, and making a beeline for the benches.

He came to a halt in front of them, looking rather expectantly at Peter, who had taken his seat after he vacated it. A moment of silence followed, as all five of them exchanged glances with one another.

"Are you going to move?" Azari grunted pointedly, despite the fact that there was plenty of room for him to sit down on the other side of Hank. Of course, he knew exactly why Azari wanted his old seat, which was directly between two striking women, back. It was a status symbol, nothing more. And Peter wasn't in any mood to divulge him, so he remained where he was.

"I said," Azari repeated, slower this time, "are you going to move? Or must I move you?"

"Lee! You're up!" Steve called, oblivious to the stare-down. Jubilee did as requested, vacating yet another seat for Azari to take. Only he didn't. Instead, after staring Peter down for a few more seconds, he stormed off towards the showers, only to be interrupted by Tony's voice filtering over the p.a. system.

" _War room. Two minutes."_

...xxXxx...

"There has been a change of plan," Tony said bluntly, as the last of the Avengers, Azari and Jean, stepped into the room. He tapped his cane on the floor as he continued, "the Teleporter we encountered during the invasion. He's been found."

"What?" Jean stuttered, "how? I thought you said-?"

"Spider-Woman found him," Tony replied simply, tugging at the hem of his suit. "She contacted me ten minutes ago. He's in the hospital, under her care. Unfortunately," he continued, sighing deeply. "She's told me that once the Board of Directors gets word of him, he'll most certainly be put out on the street in less than five minutes." _Sometimes,_ Tony grumbled internally, _I really hate this country._ He'd seen so much pain, death and destruction in his life that he failed to understand why things never seemed to change. The only thing that changed where the scapegoats.

"Why would that be?" asked Thor.

"Because some dickheads think all Mutants are terrorists," Jubilee snorted as she folded her arms across her chest. "You need someone to go get him, and bring him here?"

"Precisely," Tony replied, "however, the young man's injuries present a problem. As Miss Parker put it, 'He looks like he's been used as a punching bag for three days straight'. So obviously, he won't be getting up and walking out of there on his own. Not for a few days, at least."

"I'll go," Jubilee volunteered, stepping forward proudly.

"Negative," Tony replied quickly. "You'll be needed at the rally. You're very good at blending into a crowd. Doctor McCoy," he continued, "you'll be vital to infiltrating the pro-mutant crowd. So you're out. Peter, you'll hang back farther from the crowds, looking for troublemakers. You will also be our first-responder. Azari, Pepper and Thor will all be on perimeter duty. Try not to arise any suspicion. Steve will have field command."

"Which leaves me to go alone," Jean nodded appropriately.

"I will be going with you," Tony replied, "to ensure a smooth transition. People tend to look the other way when you wave dollar bills in their faces."

...xxXxx...

He crouched low over the edge of the balcony, so that anyone looking up at him would only see the top of his fully masked head. And from a distance, they might assume it was simply a bird. He chuckled to himself slightly as he looked down at what he was wearing.

A full body suit, with a red and blue colour scheme. It was absolutely ironic, because he generally liked to have as much of his body covered as possible, making his scars less visible. In winter, even when it was barely below freezing, he would wear a balaclava, or scarf over his face, in an attempt to avoid stares.

However, with the ridiculous outfit, everyone would surely be staring at him. And he didn't mind it one bit. He wanted people to see him as something other than a weak cripple. He wanted them to think he had sprung out of the pages of a comic book. This was his chance to do just that.

He looked out again at the crowd of at least three hundred people. Most of whom where growing restless as they waited for the event to begin. Peter did as well, because some small part of him knew that something would most definitely go wrong.

" _Spider-Man, come in,"_ Steve's voice said into his ear, thanks to the personal communications gear Tony Stark had given them all. _"Do you read? Is this thing even on? I just can't understand these technology things...Hello-?"_

"I'm here, Cap," Peter replied with a small smirk, "and your old man-ness is showing, dude. Just wait until I show you Facebook."

" _Isn't that the thing that one angry guy rants on about how evil Mutants are?"_ Steve asked, causing Peter to chuckle again, as more voices joined in on their conversation.

" _That's Twitter, but close enough,"_ Jubilee's voice whispered. Obviously she was staying as quiet as possible so as to not attract attention. After all, there where at least five times as many anti-mutant supporters as there were pro-mutants supporters. He definitely had to admire her bravery. " _Facebook's the one that they made a movie about starring that hack duchebag."_

"I didn't mind Garfield's acting in that," Peter snorted as he continued to look for any sign of trouble.

" _I was referring to Eisenberg. I don't know who thought it was a good idea to cast him as Lex Luthor,"_ Jubilee replied, as Peter, with his superb vision, caught a glimpse of her in the distance. It was hard to miss someone wearing a washed-out yellow trench coat that concealed her brightly coloured 'Avenger' uniform.

" _If you two are done flirting,"_ Hank McCoy's voice said flatly, _"I think the show's about to start."_ Almost on cue, a figure walked out onto the podium, flanked by four men in dark suits. Lindsay Ellis, the daughter of the current President Mathew Ellis, strut onto the scene with an air of confidence that Peter could feel from his perch. He tensed as he realized that things got a whole lot more serious, even as she tapped the mic, preparing to speak.

...xxXxx...

The hallways of the Hospital where a complete and utter maze. Everything looked the same to Jean, even when she read all the signs properly, and gleamed gems of information from the minds of passing doctors and nurses.

She'd snuck them past triage, using a trick her mentor, Charles Xavier, had taught her a long time ago. It involved 'erasing' herself from the minds of anyone in the vicinity. Though it had been slightly more difficult cloaking Tony Stark as well, but she had managed. Now that the difficult part was out of the way, they where stuck wandering the halls, hoping to find Jessica, so she could properly lead them to the injured man.

Jean had tried casting a telepathic 'net' to try and find her teammate, but the problem was that she didn't know the woman well enough to recognize her presence. And the building was crawling with people, most of whom had thoughts that _screamed_ at her.

She had to shake her head and press forward, winding down hallway after hallway, with Stark in tow, hoping to run into someone who could help them.

"Down here," she said, as they veered left. There was something off about the wing they entered. There weren't many people in it. Less than five, not counting herself of Mr. Stark. "She did say in an empty wing, right?" Jean asked.

"Yes," Tony replied, "for his safety. A smart move."

"Well this is as empty as I think it's going to get," Jean replied as the two of them passed a large billboard that said 'Long-time friends!' in bold, happy lettering that hung from the top. On it, she saw a couple dozen pictures of different patients and their families. All of the patients, she noticed, where children, hence the bright lettering. There was both something depressing and happy about it at the same time.

Her eyes glazed over the many pictures. Some of birthday parties, full of children in hospital gowns cutting cakes and holding balloons. Others taken in rooms decorated with Christmas trees, of a child on Santa's lap, or opening some present from a parent. They all looked so happy and energetic, but Jessica's eyes where drawn to one picture in particular.

It was of a small boy, no older than eleven, she guessed. He was wrapped from head to foot in white bandages, save for the tips of his fingers and the area around his eyes. He was sitting upright, reading a book. On the bed-post behind him rested what _looked_ like a police officer's hat. But before she could get a better look, Tony pulled the picture free, and held it in his hand for a few seconds, until a voice rang out.

"I thought I'd never find you two!" Jessica exclaimed, as she, along with a woman in her mid-fifties, strode down the hall towards them. "This way," she said, motioning left, down a darker hall.

"These are the 'specialists' that you're going to bring in?" The other woman asked with a small smirk.

"Yes, they are," Jessica replied with a nod. "Dr. Foster, meet Tony Stark and Jean Grey. Now-"

"Well I must say I'm a little disappointed," Foster said with a shrug as she examined the two. "The _least_ you could have done was bring in Captain America with you." Both Jean and Tony exchanged a look of confusion, before Foster elaborated. "Relax. I've known Jessica for ten years. I recognized her on the television instantly!" A small thought popped into Jeans head. This woman said she had known Jessica for ten years. Yet Jessica was only twenty-six. There was no way those numbers could work out that involved her working at the hospital the entire time.

"As I was saying," Jessica continued, "he's over here," she said as she pointed to the only lit room in view, which had a sleepy-looking security guard sitting out in front of it.

"Take a break," Foster ordered the man, who nodded and got up as the four of them entered the room. Inside Jean saw the very same teleporting Mutant who had saved New York with them, lying on a bed, covered in blood and bandages, and hooked up to IV. fluids.

"My god," Tony whispered softly, as Jean immediately felt a rush of painful emotions wash off of him. An unfortunate side-effect of being a telepath. "What did this to him?" he asked.

"I have no clue," Jessica replied, "but I know there are several chemicals in his system that can't be identified by our equipment. I was hoping that-"

"I have something," Tony replied swiftly. "Back at the mansion. It should be able to tell us much more than what you have here. But right now," he said as he looked at his watch. "We need to get moving."

...xxXxx...

"It is my hope," Lindsay Ellis, the President's daughter, said as she strode along the edge of the stage, holding a microphone in her hand. "That one day, we will _not_ be required to gather like this. One day, we will be able to say that we are an inclusive society. That we-"

" _Mutie fucker!"_ someone roared, as a _tomato,_ of all things, was thrown towards the stage, missing her by a fair distance. But it was enough to draw Hank McCoy out of the daze he had entered while listening to her words.

For someone in his position, they were music. The way she talked about true equality for all, regardless of age, race, gender _or_ species was very heartwarming. A large part of him wanted to leap onto the stage beside her. But again, reality intervened. He spotted two of the Secret Service Agents looking in his direction. One of whom actually pointed him out. If he where to rush the stage, he'd most likely be filled with bullets before he could get one word out.

"-that we can work together for a bright future for our children's children!" Lindsay continued, unfazed by the thrown fruit. "For god's sake!" she said, throwing one arm up in the air, "Aliens tried to annihilate us less than a month ago, yet we're still concerned with such petty affairs like what constitutes being a _human being?_ " she asked, earning a chorus of both boo's and cheers from the opposing sides of the crowd.

A crowd which he noticed was becoming more and more restless. Mainly on the Anti-Mutant side, which outnumbered the pro-mutant supporters five to one, by his estimate. _"Yo, Beast. Wondra. Azari. Iron Maiden,"_ Peter's voice filtered into his ear, quiet enough that no one around Hank would hear him. _"Looks like there's some shady-looking dudes spreading out...and they're all wearing long trench-coats with hats. Could they get anymore cliche?"_

" _It's Iron Man,"_ Pepper seethed bitterly at his joke, _"it's a title! Not a gender-related-"_

" _Cut it out,"_ Steve cut in forcefully. " _I see them too, Parker. Hank, one's passing right by you!"_ Hank spun around, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Almost immediately he spotted the man Peter had described. A long, grey coat ran all the way down to his ankles, a hat pulled down low over his eyes, and boots that hit the ground with a metallic _thud._ Before Hank could do anything, the man reached into the inside of his coat, and dropped a metal ball, which he kicked towards the unsuspecting Secret Service Agents.

Not good.

All four men where quickly consumed by a cloud of thick purple smoke, which was apparently some form of anaesthetic gas, as they all quickly dropped to the ground. As did every other form of Security. All of them taken out by the gas-bombs. People started to panic, running for safety, until the sound of automatic gunfire filled the air.

Two men rushed the stage, flanking the President's daughter, trapping her on the stage.

" _I count fifteen,"_ Steve remarked obviously racking his brain for a solution, " _there aren't enough of us to take them all out at once. Once we take one out, the others will start shooting."_

" _The three by the Daily Bugle News van,"_ Peter said, _"I think I can take them out no problem. I'm closest."_

"Alright, listen up!" one of the men said as he ripped the microphone out of the young woman's hands, "We're gonna make things _nice_ and _easy_ for you. This," he said as he held up a small handheld device, no larger than a smartphone, "is a state-of-the-art Mutie finder. It finds these bastards within a five-hundred metre radius. And," he said, as two of his buddies dragged a portly-looking scaled man up on stage. Without another word, the speaker pointed a gun at him, and shot him through the head, earning a loud gasp of shock.

" _Move, now!"_ Steve barked. Hank was about to, until the gunman spun around and pointed his weapon directly at the First Daughter. Hank froze on the spot for a second, unsure of what to do. _"Hold your positions!"_ Steve practically shouted, belaying his last order. " _Wait for my signal!"_

"If anyone gets any ideas," the gunman scoffed, "I'll waste this bitch. The Watchdogs don't like Mutie-lovers like you, honey."

"You don't scare me," Lindsay replied coldly.

"Trust me," the gunman scowled, "when this is all said and done, even your old man's gonna be quaking in his boots."

"My Father's a war hero," Lindsay shot back, glaring the man in the eyes. Something which Hank wasn't sure he'd be able to do. "You're just a thug with a gun and an over-inflated sense of self-worth."

"Yeah?" The gunman snorted as he shoved his weapon in her face. "well I'm gonna-" _clang!_ In an instant, the weapon was thrown from his hand after being hit perfectly by Steve's flying shield. The rest of the men scattered themselves across the stage, even as the shield ricochet itself off of the floor, and their skulls.

As this was happening, both Hank and Steve leaped onto the stage, where the majority of the gunmen remained. Only one was still armed, though not for long. As he trained his aim on Hank, he was struck from behind by a descending Pepper Stark, in her full armoured glory.

The blast was concussive in nature, and sent the man sprawling. But not before he got one stray shot off. The bullet grazed Hank's side, striking the thickest part of the black-and-yellow armour Tony Stark had provided him with. Fortunately there was no penetration, but it sure did hurt like hell.

So much that Hank lashed out with a roar and struck the one man still standing with a back-hand that knocked him clear _through_ the podium, and onto the gravel.

...xxXxx...

Jubilee tore off after the three men that had peeled away from the crowd. Each was wearing the same grey trench-coat with what looked like body-armour on underneath. They had, fortunately, dropped their guns for the most part. The one in the lead still held onto a handgun, but she guessed that his ammunition was either depleted or very limited, because he wasn't shooting. Just cursing.

They zig-zagged as fast as they could, but it didn't do them any good. Jubilee had spent a few years growing up on the streets. She'd been forced to run from people before. A practice which had lead her to practically perfecting the art of free-running and parkour.

For ever dumpster they threw in her way, or pallets they knocked over, she answered with a bound or a roll. She bounced around the corners they turned, using the wall as a spring-board for her foot.

"This is some freaky shit!" one of the men cursed as they desperately tried to pull away from her. Too bad she was a faster runner than they were as well.

"Bettin' she's a Mutie!" another heaved.

"Fuck I thought Chad was gonna off em' all!" the shortest man spat. "It ain't worth bein' killed over!"

"You should have thought of that!" Jubilee hissed as she lunged for the trailing man, tackling him to the ground. Her aim was off slightly, and the two of them rolled in the dirt. A mistake on her part, as one of the man's buddies kicked her back.

She went with the blow, rolling backwards as her fingers grazed over something long and wooden. Another favourite past-time of hers was martial arts. And as luck would have had it, she'd learned a great deal back at the Xavier institute. Particularly about using a staff in self defence.

So she grabbed the wooden pole, the handle of an old push broom that had broken off, and spun it in front of her body. With one simple motion she whacked the kneecap of her intended target, forcing him to the ground. Another follow-up blow to the stomach kept him down as she evaded the wild swings of the second man, who had picked up a broken bottle and was using it like a knife.

Nothing she hadn't been trained for. The trick was to not get hit with the sharp edge. She had reach, and patience on her side. He over-stepped, allowing her to drive her foot into his knee, then the butt of the staff into his gut, knocking him into the wall.

She would have continued, but she felt cold metal pressing up against the back of her head. She didn't need to look to know that there was a gun against her skull.

"Maybe it's my lucky day," the man snorted as the gun moved from the back of her skull, to the small of her back. "I bring you back to the boss, get myself a nice little promotion? Unless you ain't a Mutie?" he chuckled as she felt his hand run down her back, towards her ass, which he copped a feel of. If it wasn't for the gun, she would have clocked him right then and there.

"Go fuck yourself," she seethed.

"Maybe you can help me with-" he began, before a sharp whistle cut him off.

" _Don't look up!"_ Peter Parker shouted from his perch high up on the adjacent wall, even as he shot out a ball of his trademark 'webbing', hitting the man's gun-hand, covering both the grip and the muzzle completely with two shots. The gunman tried to fire his weapon. However, the force of impact knocked his aim askew, and the webbing proved to be too strong for the bullet to penetrate. Instead, the gun blew up in his hand, and the man let out a cry of horrible pain.

A cry that was silenced when Peter leaped down and kicked him in the chest, knocking him out.

"You okay?" he asked, as he hauled one of the guys over his shoulder. She had no real answer for him. Instead, she found herself completely re-examining her overall opinion of him. Up until that moment, she'd brushed him off as being a closet racist ass-hole who tried to make everyone feel sorry for him.

But now, she realized, that he could very well have just let that man have his way with her. Either by shooting her or something far worse. Yet he hadn't, and instead saved her life.

"Let me know if those flies taste good, light-bright," Peter chuckled as he half-hauled another one of the men, the one with the busted hand, to his feet and led them away, back to the main area everything had started in. She started after him, bringing the third gang member with her.

"You...you could have..." she half-stuttered, "let him..."

"Wouldn't be a great nephew-of-a-cop," he replied with a subtle shrug. "If I let some creep do...whatever he was going to do to you, would I?" His response astonished her somewhat.

"After the crap I said to you?" Jubilee whispered, "calling you a-?"

"After saying that you think I'm the type to just let someone shoot another person who's opinion you think differs from mine?" He asked, with a tone that told her he had a raised eyebrow underneath his mask. "Trust me, Wondra. That's _nice_ compared to what other people have said to me on occasion."

...xxXxx...

"Now you stay _put,"_ Steve growled as he cuffed the last gunman to the rest, forming a chain of half-conscious thugs. Most of whom sported minor cuts and bruises. The most serious injury being one man who had a gun explode in his hand. "They'll be by to pick up the garbage soon enough."

"Fuck you old man," one of the thugs, who looked like he should still be in school, snapped back at him. "I'll sue your bitch ass," he continued, as the President's Daughter pushed past the EMT attending to her, and a Police barrier, which faltered before her presence.

"Good luck with that," Lindsay smiled smugly, "after that little incident, I may just put in a few calls to have you moved to Rykers." she heaved as she took command of the situation, almost leading Steve back to where Pepper, Hank and Thor all stood, trying to stay away from the massive group of reporters.

Apparently news of the second gathering of a new Avengers team was very newsworthy. "Well," Lindsay smiled as she playfully crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I guess I owe my dad fifty bucks." Steve raised an eyebrow, forcing her to continue with, "He was sure at least _one_ of you guys was going to be watching. Of course, I never thought that...well _all_ of you!" she said as she motioned with her arms, over to where Peter, Jubilee and Azari where being cornered by even more reporters. Fortunately for the first and latter of the three, Azari seemed to be taking control of the interviews, using an obviously well-developed media personality to it's fullest extent. "I remember how dad used to talk about the old Avengers. Mister Fantastic, the Thing, Iron Man... any relation?" she asked, looking at Pepper for an answer.

"My grandfather," Pepper replied with a small nod. A difficult task for someone wearing a helmet like hers.

"Gotta say," Lindsay replied, "not that surprised. Still," she shrugged as she turned to the rest of the group. Though Steve noticed she had a _particular_ eye for a certain doctor. "I guess I might be obligated to attend that gala in your honour, huh?"

"Not at all, lady," Thor said gracefully, "we would not-"

"I'd love to," Lindsay cut in, "though I will have to go solo, I think. My father has some business over in France to attend to. So I guess I'll have to do. Someone will need to show me around your base, however." Again, she looked in Hank's general direction, but the good doctor was too preoccupied with the encroaching horde of reporters and photographers. All of whom where screaming for either a pose, picture or official statement.


	7. Opening Night

" _Let's go, Cap!" Bucky quipped as the two of them rounded a corner. Steve held his shield at chest height in one hand, and primed a grenade in the other. Meanwhile Bucky fired his rifle, spraying the three closest Nazi's with bullets. He forced them back as Steve tossed his grenade high, towards a Tank that had yet to properly turn it's barrel towards them._

 _The grenade exploded, disabling the Tank as the two soldiers sprinted from cover, knowing that their position was known to the enemy. Luckily, both men where excellent runners, and managed to avoid being seen by the incoming German reinforcements._

" _Boy that was close," Bucky chuckled as the two of them leaned against a stone wall. "Just like back home when we stole that apple pie from Mr. Pinkerton's shop!"_

" _You stole it," Steve reminded him. "But blamed me. And his wife caught us, remember?"_

" _Yeah," Bucky replied with a grin as he re-loaded. "Which is why I hope they shoot you and not me!"_

 _Steve nodded his response as he heard the sound of footsteps pounding down the hallway. The first set of guns turned around the corner when suddenly-_

"Cap, are you alright?"

He snapped out of his trip down memory lane. With a shake of his head, he opened his eyes and looked around. He, along with the rest of the Avengers, was sitting around the kitchen table. Most eyes where either on him, Tony or the sheets of paper in their hands. It was Hank McCoy who had pulled him out of the past.

"Yes," Steve said, flustered to a certain degree. "Yes, I'm fine. Go on,"

"...as I was saying," Tony continued, glancing sideways at Steve. "The event begins at six o'clock. You'll all be ready, of course. You will all be standing _here,"_ he said, as he pointed to floor plans. More specifically to the centre stage. Tony was planning to parade them around, much like the US. government had paraded him around as 'Captain America'. Though Steve sensed there was a lot more money being thrown around by Stark than had been pushed into any of the shows Steve had been involved in in the past. Several million dollars, in fact. "and I want you to remain in a loosely-nit group like this for at _least_ half an hour, because there is a _lot_ of press coming. And they'll all want group shots. After that, some of you have had interviews scheduled with celebrities, politicians and talk-show hosts."

"I still do not see why this is all necessary," Thor shrugged as he motioned to the itinerary. "In Asgard we always respected-"

"As we explained earlier," Pepper interrupted calmly, "it's both a fundraiser and a PR stunt. We want the public opinion on our side. I mean, you don't want them coming after us like they go after 'The Devil of Hell's kitchen', do you?" Collectively, everyone at the table nodded as Steve vaguely remembered what she was talking about. This elusive character had apparently taken it upon them-self to clean up the rougher parts of the downtown area. And the only reason that Steve believed he existed was because Peter Parker claimed to have given chase to him at one point. Supposedly he had managed to outrun him, which would be quite a feat, given just how fast Steve had seen the young man move.

"...over here," Tony droned on as he pointed to another section of the floor layout. "Will be the sample section of the first wave of merchandise. Toys, clothing, posters...even a demo of the video game my people have cranked out." Looking over the list, Steve let out a low whistle. There was a lot more listed than what he had ever imagined. And it all cost more than he would have been able to afford back in the forties. "Try and pose with some of the merchandise... selling it will help pay for the inevitable tsunami of lawsuits that we'll be facing. Of course, you'll all receive a cut of the profits."

"Well shit!" Jubilee chuckled as she leaned back in her chair. "Now I know I've made it. I'm a _comic book_ character now!"

"Weird, isn't it?" Peter remarked.

"Very," she replied, before turning to face Tony and asking, "We aren't going to have to _stay_ in our...costumes, right? Because I've got a nice dress I've been working on for a while, and this is the perfect opportunity to try it out and-"

"Well I don't see why not," Tony said with a small nod, "after a few hours, that is." Most of the people at the table let out a sigh of relief as Stark continued to go over the itinerary for the night's events. Several political dignitaries where expected to show up. The headmaster of the school that Jean used to work for, and Jubilee had graduated from, was scheduled to arrive at some point in the afternoon. A few military personnel wanted to meet Steve in person, and they would be posing with the Mayor for a group photo.

As soon as he was finished, everyone at the table went their separate ways. Hank and Jessica headed straight for the infirmary to check on the young mutant they had brought in. Jean and Thor both headed for the door. Pepper and Jubilee announced that they where going to the gym for an impromptu workout. Azari followed them soon after. Peter lingered behind, with a flash of emotion in his eye.

"Something wrong?" Steve asked, ever the attentive man.

"No," Peter snapped back harshly.

"Really?" Steve said with a raised eyebrow. Clearly something was bothering him.

"Yeah," Peter replied, a bit slower this time. "Yeah, it's just...today's never been a good day for me." Before either of them could say anything more, they where approached by Tony Stark. The older man leaned heavily on his cane as he beckoned both of them to follow him down a hallway. Just as he was about to open his mouth and ask just what they where doing and where they where going, Stark turned to face them both.

"I don't want either of you to say a _word_ about what I'm about to show you to _anyone,"_ he said very sternly. Steve and Peter exchanged a glance with one another, before nodding in agreement. Accepting this, Tony turned to the wall and placed his palm against it. The square section that he rested his hand on glowed a faint blue, and he heard a faint musical cue.

A portion of the wall then slid open, revealing a secret, hidden tunnel which was illuminated with the same blue glow. Tony hobbled down the tunnel, with the two of them in tow. "Something which will be difficult, with Miss Grey, I'm afraid. For now we'll just have to trust that she doesn't dig around in our skulls whenever she pleases." That was a somewhat alarming thought to Steve, realizing how vulnerable he was to her. Thankfully she didn't seem like a malicious type. The three of them exited the small tunnel, entering a dark room.

With a flick of a switch, bright lights soon chased away the shadows, revealing a massive space filled with all sorts of objects. Weird guns, the kind Steve would have expected to see in a cheap science fiction movie, lay behind a pane of thick glass, which was reinforced by a metal cage. A suit of armour, which was lined entirely by spikes and looked like it was designed to fit someone of Thor's stature, stood in one corner. In another was a row of metal safes, each containing a single glass window, displaying the object inside of it.

"This," Tony said calmly, "is the Vault. Back in the day," he said as he ran his fingers over the gun-rack. "We gathered and stored weapons from our enemies. Mostly for safe-keeping, because the police and government cannot be trusted with this kind of power. Not yet, anyways," he said as he walked around the centre table. "Others we took in for study. Like this curiosity," he said as he flicked a finger against the nearest metal box.

As soon as he had done so, the box began to shake and rattle. Something inside let out what could only be described as a scream, before covering the glass section of the box in a black, gooey substance.

"What the hell is _that?"_ Steve blurted, pointing to the box.

"A little gift from our Martian friends," Tony replied plainly. "A friend of mine picked it up in Hell's Kitchen, trying to _devour_ a house cat. While it was still alive." At that moment, Steve heavily regretted eating breakfast that morning, as his stomach began to churn uncontrollably.

...xxXxx...

Pepper huffed as she felt her feet pounding against the rubber track of the treadmill. A bead of sweat dripped down her brow as she pushed herself harder. The knowledge that this was just a warm-up did not dissuade her from continuing.

After all, if she was going to be a professional Superhero, she needed to be in the best shape possible.

"Feel the burn!" she said as she re-doubled her efforts. Not far from her, Jubilee was resting.

Not by sitting down. Or leaning against a wall. No, she was resting the palm of her hand on a balance beam. And supporting her entire weight while doing it, in an incredible feat of body control. Slowly, the Asian girl moved her free arm and two legs in circles, keeping herself steady somehow.

"I still don't know how you can do that," Pepper huffed as she ran. "Aren't you afraid of breaking something? Like an arm or your nose?"

"Never have," Jubilee chuckled calmly, despite her precarious position. "It's always kinda...come naturally to me, you know?"

"Like a second Mutant power?" Pepper replied as she finally stopped the treadmill, and moved onto something a little more challenging. She went to the weight bench, picked up a set of dumbbells began to curl her arms. "Or something like that? I think I heard McCoy say something about it being a recent phenomenon. I...I wasn't really listening. All that stuff goes over my head."

"Yeah I don't really understand the science of it all either," Jubilee said, with what Pepper interpreted as an upside-down shrug. "I mean, I get the basic concepts. The Mutant Gene spreads itself as far and wide as possible. Each carrier is affected in a different way. And so on and so forth."

"Yeah that's about as much as I understand," Pepper replied with a grunt, "I mean...no offence and all...but you have to admit it. Mutants are _weird."_ she said, praying that her words didn't come across as bigoted and racist.

"No complaints there," Jubilee replied as she flipped herself down to a sitting position. "I mean, there is like...no status quo for us. No baseline powers. No common ancestor. Can't even tell if it's really genetic or not, according to Hank." she said as Pepper wiped away the beads of sweat forming on her brow. "And of course those toy and movie and video game people Tony hired aren't helping at all." Pepper nodded in agreement. Those same people had tried to twist her 'origin' story around to better suit what focus groups liked. Apparently just being a well-educated black woman who just happened to be related to one of the richest men in the world wasn't quite enough for them. They wanted her to spin the story that she had managed to pull herself up out of the gutter by the straps of her boots, defying the odds and now wanted to help those less fortunate. _What utter bullshit,_ she thought to herself.

"Let me guess," Pepper smirked, "they want to downplay your Mutant side while focusing on being a poor little orphan success story?"

"You got it," the Asian Mutant nodded appropriately. "According to them, no little girl is gonna want my face on her shirt if I'm a freak."

"And what did you tell them?" Pepper asked.

"That I'd swallow any of their bullshit," Jubilee replied with a slight cough, "but I remain a Mutant. No if's, and's, or buts. Jean and Hank both said the same. And I think Cap had a thing or two to say to them."

"Which is probably why they still wheeled in a cart full of your action figures," Pepper said, as they both chuckled somewhat, remembering everyone's reactions to seeing their plastic likenesses being wheeled inside. Along with a very colourfully painted, patriotic motorcycle. "Steve's going to be rolling in dough within a week," she shrugged.

"Oh yeah," Jubilee nodded as she reached for a bottle of water nearby. "Stuff with his face is already going for crazy amounts on eBay. Some dude bought some bloody vintage trading cards the other day for well over four thousand dollars." Pepper was forced to choke back a string of expletives.

"Four thousand?" she blurted disbelievingly. "For some old cards?"

"Well supposedly they where carried by the seller's grandpa on Omaha beach," Jubilee replied plainly, as she arched her back. "kinda neat, but I think the money could have been spent better." They both looked up at the large digital clock on the wall.

"Shit," Pepper said, realizing what time it was, and how little time she had to get ready. "I gotta go. Tony wants me to do a few flyby's of the City before lunch, garner up some interest," she said as she stood up, and arched her back. "Plus, he says I need to work on my flying. Apparently it doesn't look good if I create a crater every time I land..."

"Well have fun with that," Jubilee said as Pepper strutted out of the room confidently.

...xxXxx...

"I don't understand," Hank said, scratching the fur on his cheeks as he spoke. "All the blood tests came back negative for anything dangerous. There's no sign of-"

"You've never worked in an ER, have you, Dr. McCoy?" Jessica said, cutting him off with a smile as she read over the test results again. All six pages. Without blinking. In less than half the time it had taken him. "One of my Professors had a saying. If you hear the sound of Hooves, look for Horses. Not Zebras." Hank looked at her, slightly confused, so she elaborated. "We've ruled out everything we can think of. Now," she said as she set down the clip-board and moved over to stand beside their still-unconscious Mutant patient. "We just have to find whatever we can't think of ourselves." she said as she began to run her hands through the young man's fine coat of blue fur.

Since they had brought him to be in their care, the young man had not shown any signs of recovery, or deteriorating conditions. Something that had puzzled them both.

"Huh," she said, tilting her head to the side, getting Hank's attention. "Have a look at this." Hank did exactly as she asked, allowing his gaze to follow her fingers to a spot of skin she had revealed by pulling back some of his fur. Immediately he saw what she meant.

At the base of his neck, their Patient had a crude tattoo etched into his skin. A cross, with a series of symbols that he couldn't quite make out properly, as the ink and fur where a similar hue of blue. Easy enough to miss when you weren't looking for it. "I've never seen this kind of cross before," Hank admitted.

"I have," Jessica replied, "on a few skin-heads a couple years ago. Apparently it's from some sort of religious gang. Spreading the good word and all that. The type of people my Sunday school teacher would have liked to smack around a few times for fun." she continued, adding even more to the aura of intrigue that surrounded her, even if only by a little. "Yeah, whoever did this definitely isn't a professional. The ink's crap, some of it bled out into the surrounding tissue. Only..."

"Only what?" Hank asked.

"This was put on the back of his neck for a reason," Jessica replied as she straightened her back. "It's hard to cover up. Easy to see. And right on top of a cluster of nerves. If you want to hurt someone," she said, "you put a degrading tattoo right there."

"And you know this how?" Steve Rogers asked, as he stepped into the room, seemingly from out of nowhere.

"I wanted to put 'I love Justin Timberlake' there when I was twelve," Jessica replied with a small shrug, and a flicker of a smile. The latter of which was subtly aimed at the Captain, though he did not see it. Steve seemed more concerned for the young man on the bed. Which was completely natural.

"Uh-huh," Steve nodded, raising an eyebrow and looking at Hank, who shrugged. "And do you have any idea who tortured him like this?" he asked.

"Not torture," Hank replied confidently, as he tugged at the edge of his lab-coat. "See his hands? they're all bloodied and raw. He was able to fight back. My opinion," Hank offered with a sigh. "he was in a Mutant fighting ring. It's one of the only ways people like us can make money. Thing is, if you lose...you get thrown to the wolves."

"Severe beatings do not explain his comatose state," Jessica replied, crossing her arms in front of her body as she spoke. "I still say it's something drug related. Perhaps he tried to take that rumoured Mutant Power suppressing drug?"

"I've never heard of it hurting someone like this," Hank refuted with a shake of his head. "Besides, if he had taken some...he wouldn't look like this."

"Unless he was lied to, and desperate enough," Jessica suggested. "Someone in his position is extremely vulnerable."

" _And who's fault is that?"_ Hank half-growled.

"Not hers," Steve cut in firmly, staring Hank down, and snapping him out of his mood. "J.A.R.V.I.S. should still be running that...face-finding thing," he struggled to say as he kept himself planted between the two of them. "If he can find out more about this man, it should lead to new answers, right?" Hank nodded sheepishly, embarrassed by his small outburst. It was his goal in life to prove that he was not an animal, like his outward appearance would suggest. With a heavy sigh, he looked down at his watch. A little less than three hours to go before the evening festivities where going to begin. There was still a lot he had to do before then.

"I have to go," Hank said plainly, as he set down the file he was holding, and made his way towards the door. "Doctor, Captain," he said respectfully as he bowed out and headed down the hallway, pulling off his lab-coat as he walked.

...xxXxx...

Deep inside a secluded warehouse, Wanda Maximoff sat with her legs crossed in front of her body, and examined the room around her. It was dull, grey and depressing, despite her efforts to attempt to decorate. She wasn't surprised her efforts had had so little of an effect, do to the lack of things to decorate with. _Hell,_ she thought, _there's barely anything in here at all!_ Pretty much anything in the warehouse that hadn't already been there had either been stolen by her speedster brother, Peitro, or traded with a local gang for by her father.

A rickety bed, a folding card table, and an old television. That's all she had to work with. Much better than what the government had given her, but still far less than what any normal person her age would consider comfortable.

Still, she knew she had it better than almost anyone else in what she was supposed to be calling 'their house'. Peitro was the only other one with an actual bed. Her father was sleeping on an old couch. And two of his military friends, James Howlett and Elizabeth Braddock, slept in sleeping bags on the floor. A few of Peitro's friends, who Wanda wanted nothing to do with, had taken up residence in an abandoned semi-truck outside the compound.

Not the most pleasant conditions, but better than nothing. that's what she told herself, as she absentmindedly toyed with a few scraps of metal she'd found lying around. A crimson vapour stretched out from her fingertips, holding the largest scrap of metal in mid-air as she warped it's shape into whatever she wanted. She made it smaller. She made it bigger. She turned it blue, red, green, black, white and transparent. All of this was caused merely by her thoughts.

Back at the government facility, their scientists had done their best to ascertain what exactly her powers where. She wasn't exactly a telekenetic. Or an elemental manipulator like her father was. She was a combination of both.

She sighed as she dropped the metal scraps to the ground, and switched on the old television. Thankfully, one of Peitro's fellow gang-members, a kid nicknamed 'Forge' had a certain knack for technology, had managed to re-fit it with newer parts, essentially giving her all the perks of a top-of-the-line model, with very little cost attached. Wanda mindlessly flipped through channels, ranging from news broadcasts, to re-runs of old sitcoms, to old movies, to weather reports. Until finally, she managed to find something that caught her eye.

Even while she had been a captive of the government, she had caught wind of a team of super-heroes who had managed to save the world. So it was somewhat of a relief when she had heard that they would be sticking around, and that it was rumoured that a handful of them where just like her and her family. She had the smallest feeling that things where about to get a lot easier for Mutant kind as a whole.

However, living in such cramped quarters meant that one had very little privacy.

"What the bloody hell are you watching?" Elizabeth Braddock, or as Wanda jokingly referred to her as, 'Betsy', grunted from the doorway. Being a close friend of her Father's, Betsy had recently taken Wanda under her wing, like an older sister. Not that the younger girl minded, though she was almost certain that her dad had practically ordered her to do so.

"The live broadcast," Wanda said as Betsy pulled up a chair, "of the new _Avengers_ team."

" _Pah,"_ Betsy scoffed as she pulled up a chair to sit in. "It's all a show. Something for the media to gobble up. And to sell toys to kids with too much money. Though..." she said, as a smirk formed on the edge of her mouth, as a picture of a topless Captain America was shown on the screen. "Maybe not _all bad..."_

...xxXxx...

The night was in full swing. After a dizzying introduction by an overpaid announcer, each Avenger had paraded themselves onto a stage to a varying degree of approval. To absolutely no one's surprise, Steve's reception had been the most exuberant. And Thor had certainly earned his fair share of cat-calls from the observant audience. As did Jessica and Jean, though the latter's became somewhat subdued when it was announced that she was a _mutant._

Peter, T'challa and Pepper all received mixed reception. Mostly due to some bad press surrounding political issues, personal attacks from the press and a recent business fallout that had left several hundred people jobless. But as mix as theirs was, it was nothing compared to the dead silence that came when it came time to show off Jubilee and Hank, the latter of whom shrugged off the fact that he was _booed_ off of the stage. The former didn't take it too well, however, and walked off to be on her own for a while.

Seeing this, Steve had an urge to go after her, to offer some solace. But his path was blocked by a sea of reporters, politicians and admirers. All of whom clamoured for his undivided attention. The first, and most prominent of whom was a man he recognized from the television: Robert Kelly, a Senator from New York.

"It is an _honour_ to meet you, Captain Rogers!" Kelly proudly exclaimed, as he took the initiative and shook Steve's hand without permission. Something about the man's aura made Steve want to immediately wash his hands. "A real, true honour! I don't know if you know this, sir, but my _grandfather_ served with you in the One-Hundred and Seventh Battalion!"

"...Really...?" was Steve's response. He wanted nothing to do with this man's smarmy demeanour.

"Oh yes!" Kelly replied passionately. "Yes, he always talked about you, sir! Said you where...and I quote, 'the craziest, bravest, kindest son of a bitch I'd ever met!'"

"That's great," Steve replied as he clapped the man on the shoulder, wanting nothing more than to escape his death-grip handshake. "I-" Steve began, only to be cut off once more by Kelly's boisterous proclamations.

"Step in close Captain!" Kelly said proudly, "and we're sure to make the _front page!"_ he said, as even more photographers swarmed them, snapping pictures so fast that Steve found himself nearly blinded by the constant flashing. He had to actively resist the urge to raise an arm to shield his eyes, until Tony Stark approached. In his hand, he held a small device, no larger than a pen. And when clicked, every reporter's camera seemed to shut down remotely on command. This provided Steve with the perfect opportunity to slip away from the Senator's company. He ducked behind a thick pillar before anyone really noticed him making his escape.

Unfortunately, in his desperation, he nearly knocked Jessica, who was in the middle of expertly downing a glass of champagne, onto the floor. Luckily she had better balance than he did, and adjusted her stance appropriately. Only the slightest bit of alcohol spilled onto the floor. No more than a few drops.

"What's the matter?" she half-smirked as she drowned the remaining liquid, "sudden need to wash your hands?" She stepped to the side, revealing a half-empty bottle, as well as a few other glasses, one of which he took and filled slightly. Because of his increased metabolism, it would take a considerable amount of wine to get him even slightly tipsy. But he still enjoyed the taste. And the company, admittedly. "I gotta say, I am a patient woman, and _I_ want to knock him across the room..." Steve chuckled, knowing full well that was something she was very capable of doing. They had done an assessment of each individual's overall physical prowess, and Jessica had come in as the second-strongest, after Thor. Though he had her beat by a large margin, and Steve harboured a belief that Peter hadn't given it his all.

"I felt dirty after being next to him," Steve replied in a low whisper, as Jessica poured herself another glass. He took another sip before saying, "back in the forties, guys like that would be laughed out of city hall...let alone Parliament!" Both laughed at this, which Steve appreciated. He'd noticed both siblings acting rather dour all day, and he wanted that to change.

"Yeah well all he's gonna get now is a good ole' Twitter-thrashing," Jessica chuckled as she downed the remnants of her second glass. "God I don't know why we had to invite people like _that,"_ she said venomously, shooting daggers out of her eyes towards Kelly, who was now posing for pictures with Azari. And from the looks of things, the two where getting along rather well. Not at all surprising, given how much the two seemed to be alike. In fact, Steve wasn't sure exactly which one she was referring to, as it could have been either of them. Azari, despite his talents as a public speaker and tactical manoeuvres, was not well-liked among the Avengers roster. Steve was pretty sure that he, Thor and Hank where the only ones who could stomach his presence for more than a few minutes. "I mean, who the hell," Jessica continued as she poured and downed yet _another_ glass, "do they think they are?"

"Rich men who think their money elevates them to a whole other class," Steve replied in agreement. He didn't hate all people with money, just the ones who talked down to others like they where nothing. There where some billionaires that he respected. He was even disappointed to discover that Bill Gates wouldn't be in attendance, because he had a charity venture he wanted to discuss with the man. "Honestly, don't pay them any mind. And look," he said, in an attempt to steer the conversation away from the subject, "looks like they opened up your clothing booth!"

"I try not to," she snapped back, finally emptying the bottle she had been vehemently consuming. "And well... _shit,_ I probably should go over..." she muttered, setting down her empty glass before leading Steve over to the aforementioned booth. Already there was a small crowd gathered there, eager to examine the available merchandise. Mostly for critique and review. But some, mostly a combination of young girls with money to spend and parents with money with young girls to spend on, where there to buy, it seemed. A collective squeal rippled through the small crowd as Jessica, much like Steve had been, was bombarded with requests for photographs. Mainly selfies.

Though to be fair, she seemed to handle it a bit better than he had. Even though, in his mind, she was close to being flat-out drunk based on how much of that one bottle she had consumed, plus the other empty one he had seen not far off. Hopefully she had some sort of accelerated immunity like he did. But, she maintained her posture, and smiled for a plethora of pictures. Eventually, she even roped Steve into a few with a bear-like grip.

Of course, a part of him didn't really mind.

...xxXxx...

" _Fucking ass holes,"_ Jubilee found herself muttering as she paced the length of the hallway, thankful no one was around to see her fuming mad. She might just have blinded them in a fury. How the hell could they go around downright _insulting_ people like that? Hank had been practically forced off the stage. And although everyone else had done their best to calm her down, even Hank himself, it hadn't worked in the least.

She just needed some time to think, maybe something to hit, and definitely something stiff to drink. But there was no punching bag present, and all of the booze had mysteriously disappeared into thin air. And of course, there was no way Jean was going to leave her alone, even if she was in a whole different room than she was.

" _ **Are you alright?"**_ Jean's voice echoed through her mind. Something annoying that Telepathic people did way too often.

"Piss of," Jubilee replied out loud.

" _ **Testy, testy, testy,"**_ Jean replied mockingly, _**"If you need to talk...I can be there in five minutes."**_

"I'm fine," Jubilee snapped back as she stupidly attempted to walk away from the conversation. Of course that didn't work with Jean, who wasn't really there to begin with. Fortunately, Jean seemed to have enough decency to know when she was not wanted. So Jubilee was left to her own devices, despite the fact that she could hear the sounds of a party not far off.

It wasn't anything she wasn't used to. She had spent a lot of time on her own, trying to figure things out for herself.

At first, it had been when her parents died suddenly, and she had been left as an orphan at the age of six. She'd had to learn how to navigate the world the orphanage brought down on her by herself, as the nuns where too busy dealing with too many children to take much notice of her. She'd had to learn to cook and clean for herself, mostly. She even taught herself basic reading and writing, from copying others.

However that had all changed when her mutant powers developed at the age of twelve. The first time they'd acted up involuntarily, she'd found herself hauled to the curb with nothing but the clothes on her back. She remembered that day with perfect clarity. It had been raining. All she had been wearing was a pair of old jeans, a white shirt and a tattered old sweater. She hadn't even been given the chance to grab _shoes._

That first night was one of the worst experiences of her entire life. She'd been cold, wet and alone. Most of it she'd spent huddled in the corner of a dark alley, just trying to sleep, but unable to. She'd wound up catching a nasty cold that night, which became much worse in the morning. By the next day, she could do a little more than move.

Fortunately, someone had found her, and took her under his wing. He'd shown her how to survive on the streets. How to steal. How to hide. How to be tough. And when the time came, she was picked up by Charles Xavier, a renowned Mutant Rights supporter, and he'd taken her on as a student at his school. She would eternally be forever grateful for what Xavier had done for her.

"Lost in thought?" Peter Parker's voice rang out, startling her. She hadn't seen him perched above one of the cupboards, idly eating away at a plate of desserts with his mask half-up over his nose. "Or looking for the restroom? It's that way," he said, nudging to the left with his head, "by the way."

"No, just looking for something to drink," she replied with a heave, "you wouldn't happen to know where the booze-?"

"Ask Jess," Peter said quickly, "she's probably drank half of it by now."

"I thought she hated the stuff?" Jubilee asked, remembering one of the first conversations they'd had as a group.

"She does," Peter nodded as he downed a yellow butter-tart. "But well...it's her birthday. She always drinks on her birthday..." he said, with his voice trailing off somewhat towards the end. "Word of advice," he said, "don't tick her off tonight. So what's bugging you?" he said, changing the direction of the conversation on a dime.

"well," Jubilee said, slumping against the wall. "those ass-holes out there. It just-"

"Pissed you the fuck off the way they treated you and Hank?" Peter replied.

"Yeah," she shrugged, "I mean, who the hell are they to think that that's okay? We're trying to put our lives on the line for these people, and they're tearing half of us down because of something beyond our control! It's just... _uggg!_ You have no idea what it's like to have people suddenly treat you differently because of how you look, or something you can do? People find out I'm a Mutant and suddenly they look at me like I'm a piece of shit on the bottom of their shoe!" She curled her hands into fists to keep herself from slamming them into something, or blowing something up by accident.

"First off," Peter replied as he set the empty plate down on top of the cub-board and clasped his hands together, "something people keep trying to tell me is that there are always going to be petty dumb-asses trying to tear others down for the stupidest reasons. I keep being told to not bother with those types. So maybe you should as well."

"Easy for you to say," Jubilee snapped back, "people don't look at you like you're a piece of shit." Immediately, she knew where she'd gone wrong with that sentence, even _before_ Peter slipped his red-and-black mask off, baring his disfigured face. Something she'd noticed he absolutely hated doing.

"Two things. Of the two of us," Peter shrugged as he dropped himself down to the ground, grabbing the plate before he did so. "Shit...even of the whole team... _I'm_ the only one who looks like an actual piece of shit. So don't sell yourself short, sparkles. Second," he said as he motioned towards the exit. "I think we've got a good two hours before that team-wide discussion panel we're supposed to do. So come on," he winked as he pulled his mask back over his head, "let's go see if we can go catch some _real_ shit-bags. I know that always makes me feel a hell of a lot better!" A smile cracked her face, as she found herself thankful she hadn't changed out of her 'Wondra' getup yet, like she had planned.

...xxXxx...

Pepper was absolutely stifling hot in the Mark-17 Iron Man armour. Even though the suit had environmental adapters, the overhead lights where cooking her inside the suit so much that she had flipped the face panel open, and had downed six glasses of cold water to combat the heat. She'd have to talk with her grandpa about finding a better way to deal with the heat while in a suit.

Of course, even worse than the heat was the crowd gathered around her, Jean and Azari. They all clamoured for their attention, wanting to know specific things about the product line they where supposed to be advertising. Currently, they where on the subject of action figures. Something which none of them where really an expert on.

"So this is the complete line?" a reporter prodded, as he pointed to the display case full of the toys. Every Avenger was represented equally in an action-packed diorama. Their miniature plastic counterparts where battling a massive robotic behemoth that looked like it was straight out of some Japanese TV. show.

"Yes..." Pepper replied, "yes, it's the complete line. For right now, at least." She motioned to the second display case, where rows of the action figures where on display. "If this endeavour proves to be successful, then we may wind up launching more in the future. Different costumes, maybe a few with more 'action' features. You know," she shrugged, "make them shoot things and stuff." She offered this weakly, wishing she'd spent more time familiarizing herself with the products beforehand. She was sure she looked like an absolute idiot right then and there. Thankfully, she at least had some backup.

"They come with _all_ the bells and whistles," Azari said confidently, stepping forward and taking charge of the interview. Pepper, thankful for the reprieve, stepped to the side, out of the way of the majority of the reporters. She found a place beside Jean and Hank, who where deep in conversation about their blue-furred Patient.

"...if he hasn't woken up by tomorrow, I really believe that sending him back to the hospital would be the best course of action," Jean was in the middle of saying.

"But they'll just turn him away at the door," Hank replied quickly, in a hushed tone. "What we need to happen is for you to go-"

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again," Jean cut in, "It's morally wrong for me to invade someone's head like that. Especially if they're out cold, Hank!" she hissed back at him.

"Even if the alternative is him dying?" Pepper interjected with a small shrug, as she watched Steve and Jessica across the room, as they exhibited another product line. The two where practically joined at the hip. No doubt due to the fact that Jessica looked like she might fall over drunk, without Steve to lean on. "I agree with Hank, we can't send-" she began, only to be interrupted by a calm-looking man in his early forties wearing a sharp suit. His feigned friendly expression told her one thing, that he was Military, and on a mission. Though what it was wasn't yet clear to her.

"Miss Stark," the man said politely, extending a hand for her to shake. "Miss Grey, Doctor McCoy," he said, addressing them each personally. "My name is Phil Coulson, Head of the N.Y.M.R.D. Or the New York Meta human Relocation Division." Pepper nodded appropriately. The N.Y.M.R.D was a well known, if somewhat controversial law enforcement division that handled strange situations. They had been put into place not long after the original Avengers disappeared, to deal with meta-human threats. And of course, that namely meant dealing with 'dangerous' Mutants. Something Pepper was well aware that certain members of her team had issues with.

But, ever the diplomatic businesswoman, she remained calm to see what exactly this man wanted from them.

"I am here," Coulson continued smoothly, "in hopes that we can establish a decent repertoire from the beginning. I would hate for things to be...uhh..muddled...by preexisting opinions and prejudices. Doctor, the warrant for your arrest has been terminated." he said, addressing Hank directly. "Also, I've given an executive order to all under my command, as well as as a strongly-worded suggestion to the NYPD that all Mutant Avengers be given proper amnesty from any actions that are _technically_ illegal."

"You mean like using our gifts to help others?" Jean said in a somewhat scolding tone.

"Miss Grey," Coulson replied calmly, "I have never claimed that the current laws are just, or fair. However," he continued as he cupped his hands together. "The fact does remain that there are dangerous individuals out there who are capable of causing a lot of harm." Pepper was torn here. She agreed with what Coulson was saying. However, she also knew that voicing her opinion was sure to upset the people on either side of her. But she spoke nonetheless, choosing her words carefully as she spoke.

"Well maybe our organizations can work together," Pepper suggested, "for the betterment of all involved. Even if certain adjustments have to be made."

"I couldn't have said it better," Coulson replied. "And I-" the rest of his sentence was cut off by a loud _crash!_ sound as someone, who Pepper couldn't see thanks to the crowd, was _thrown_ through a display of clothes.

...xxXxx...

"You know, for the city that never sleeps," Jubilee said as she crouched low over the side of a tall building. "It's unbelievably quiet up here."

"Well for you at least," Peter Parker replied from where he crouched beside her. "You don't have super-acute hearing. But I guess it's still quieter than normal up here," he said as he smiled underneath is full-face mask. In truth, he loved it up there more than down on the street. There was so much more to see from their vantage point that one would never catch onto from street-level. They way people moved through thick crowds in patterns was particularly fascinating to him.

"You spend a lot of time up here?" she asked him.

"Yeah," he replied. "Yeah, it's great spot to just come and...think," he said with a deep sigh. Today of all days was probably the worst day for either him or Jessica to be interacting with people. But he was a bit better at putting up a brave face about it than she was. "Plus you get wicked cell reception up here," he pointed out.

"Yeah," she replied with a small huff. "Yeah, I spent a lot of time up on rooftops when I was younger." Peter cast a glance over in her direction. He hadn't said anything to her, but he'd long ago guessed that she, like most of the team, ironically, was an orphan. And that she hadn't been as fortunate to find a surrogate parent like the rest of them had been. "Mainly looking to see if there where any windows I could open to get inside."

"Troublemaker, huh?" he replied with a chuckle. "Too bad you nev...hang on," he said as he caught sight of several men pulling up to a nearby convenience store. There was nothing out of the ordinary about them, except that they where wearing balaclava's and carrying baseball bats. Not something someone usually brought into a store unless they where looking for trouble. "wanna go catch a robber?" he asked with enthusiasm.

"Isn't that why you brought me up here?" Jubilee quipped back, "how do you plan on-!" he cut her off by pulling her in tight against his body, holding her there with one arm. "What the hell are you-?"

"Hang on!" he said as he shot out a line of webbing that attached to the nearest building, and leaped off the roof. The webbing went taught as the two heroes swung with their momentum. Peter laughed heartily as their momentum carried them through the full swing. Whereas he was sure his teammate wanted to either scream or vomit, he wasn't sure. The distance required them to swing several times, but that was nothing new for Peter. Perhaps the most challenging part was properly accounting for the added weight Jubilee added to any motion made. But that was merely a simple matter of using basic math to calculate the optimal trajectory, so he didn't mind. _Plus it's not so bad having a hot chick clinging to me for dear life,_ he thought with a smile, _and thank god Jean's not here to know what the hell I'm thinking,_ he realized as they landed on the very roof of the convenience store that was being robbed.

As soon as he let her go, Jubilee slipped down the back of the building, all trace of her previous nausea gone. He understood perfectly. He'd be the distraction, she'd be the surprise followup. He made sure to set his lenses to auto-tint mode, just in case as he crawled low over the building's rooftop, wary of any potential spotters the robbers might have.

Luckily there weren't any that he could see, and he promptly landed behind the five men, who where in the process of shaking down the store owner.

"Tombstone isn't too fond of you not payin' up on time!" the largest robber growled as he lifted a smallish Korean man into the air with both hands. "Mister Chun!"

"Please!" the man they where holding hostage cried out. "Please! I have no money!"

"You hear that?" the lead thug chuckled as he set who Peter assumed was the store owner down. "Mister Chun here say's he doesn't have any money... yet," the man continued as he paced the length of the main counter, where a number of obviously expensive personal trinkets sat. "Yet he's got all this nice shit, sittin' right here..." the man continued as he picked up a diamond bowl and vase. An evil gleam could be seen in his eye.

"Please no! Those belonged to my-!" the shopkeeper cried out, only to be met with a slap on the back of his head, which shut him up.

"Yeah, these look like they might go for a pretty penny out on' eBay," the man chuckled as he mockingly weighed both items in his hands. The store owner winced with each subtle motion, and Peter decided that it was time to intervene. He calculated his motions carefully as he latched himself to the ceiling of the store. The only two people who saw him where the shopkeeper's wife, and Jubilee, who was moving stealthily behind an isle of cards. He nodded to her, and pointed to the one man guarding the family.

"Now," the lead man grunted as he leaned in close to the store owner, "looks like I'm gonna have to call-"

"The Ghostbusters?" Peter howled as he dropped down from the ceiling, and fired off two blobs of webbing, covering both the man's hands and the priceless decorations he was holding in them. His hands where covered in such a way that, even if he managed to somehow hit the vase and bowl hard enough to break them through the webbing, he'd slice his hands into a thousand bits in the process. "If you do, please make sure it's the Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd and Harold Ramis version. Not the new people," he said as he proceeded to relieve another one of the Thugs of his baseball bat, just as Jubilee popped out of her hiding spot and expertly flipped a third man over her shoulder, showing a surprising amount of strength and skill.

"What the fuck!" the lead thug cried as he looked at his web-covered hands. "what the hell did you do to me, freak?"

"I just covered your hands in a pressurized adhesive," Peter replied as he swung under the arm of another thug. "Think of it like Duct Tape crossed with silly string. And as I was saying," he said as he twisted his opponent's arm out of it's socket with the slightest nudge. "Melissa McCarthy _did_ give that part her all." as he babbled on, he watched Jubilee smash another man's shin against a metal rack, causing him to scream in pain. More evidence that she was both not someone to be trifled with, and that she'd been protecting herself for a long time. He would have continued to watch, but the hairs stood up on the back of his neck, and he instinctively ducked under the arms of the vase-and-bowl wielding man. Peter grabbed him by the shoulders and twisted him to the ground, and pinned him there with more webbing. "That should hold you there, until the police arrive," he said, turning to face the shopkeeper, "and just tell the cops to pour some nail polish remover on him. That'll loosen the webb-!"

Again, on instinct, he moved as he heard a small _click_ in the background. The last thug was holding a gun, trained on him. In the split second before he fired, Jubilee filled the room with a brilliant shower of lights, aimed at the gunman. Peter's lenses automatically darkened, and the family looked away. But the thug was not so lucky. He caught the full blast right in the face. He let out a pained howl as he dropped onto his back, clutching his eyes.

"You alright?" the Asian Mutant asked him.

"Yeah..." he replied with a nod. The bullet had gone wild, and sunk into the wood panelling on the other side of the store.

...xxXxx...

With a confident smile, Azari, prince of Wakanda, put all of the skills his people had taught him about public speaking to good use. He needed to do his people proud. Perhaps this was not the most glamorous job in the world, but it was one his father had bequeathed to him, and he intended to hold his head high.

"So I understand that there is a movie in the works?" Christine Everhart, a famous talk-show host, asked him. The two of them where seated on a portable set of hers, filming a segment for her show. The blonde woman sat neatly with her legs crossed as she led the interview. "Can you confirm this?"

"One hundred percent," Azari replied with a confident nod. "Mr. Stark has negotiated a deal with the studio, allowing them to retain full profit, while we benefit from marketing, as well as retaining a certain amount of oversight on things."

"Like?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"The script. Costume designs. Casting choices. That sort of stuff," he replied with a smirk, which was hidden behind his mask. "Of course, ideally we'd star in it ourselves. But I think we'll be a little too busy for that. Saving the world. Talking to beautiful women. All that stuff."

"Hmm," Christine smiled as she eyed her notes. "You say you'll have some choice over actors. Anyone you'd want to play yourself?"

"Well," Azari said, turning to face the people standing just out of view of the camera. "James Earl Jones and Morgan Freeman are a little too old. But I think someone like Micheal B. Jordan could definitely come pretty close to pulling me off." A wave of chuckles rolled through the crowd at this. Underneath his mask, he smiled, revelling in how he was able to mould his public image with such ease.

"And what about your fellow Avengers?" Christine asked, leaning into the conversation. "There has been a _lot_ of rumours surrounding the casting of Tom Cruise or Tom Hardy as Captain America. What are your thoughts on that?" Azari leaned back, feigning a pondering pose before he spoke.

"I think either of them would be a decent choice," the Wakandan Prince replied, "perhaps Mr. Cruise is slightly older than someone should be while playing the Captain, though. Though I could certainly see him playing Mr Stark!" he said, being as diplomatic as possible. "I don't think casting any of us is going to be hard, Miss Everhart," Azari said honestly. "I know that Emma Stone's name has been tossed around to play Jean, and Benedict Cumberbatch for Hank, both of whom I can fully get behind. Maybe Emma Watson for Spider-Woman? And then there's that Hemsworth guy who wants to play Thor, he'd do pretty good I think." Again, his words where met with welcome nods of approval.

"And Spider-Man," Christine asked, switching to a new page on her clip-board. "I noticed that details on his appearance are sketchy. All other action figures have removable masks and swap-able heads. Yet his does not. Can you perhaps elaborate on as to why this is?" Azari chuckled under his breath before giving his reply.

"Well the easiest way I can explain that is to give you a good idea what he looks like," Azari smirked gleefully. "Take the face of _Gollum_ from Lord of the Rings, and mesh it together with _Sloth_ from Goonies and a dash of Freddy Kruger...and...well, that's kind of what the guy looks like!"

"...what...?" Christine said, with an audible gasp as the crowd fell so silent, Azari could have sworn he heard glass shattering in the background.

"Yeah," the Prince of Asgard said with a slap on his knee. "He's a _fucking_ disaster! A train-wreck! Like a turd crossed with an overcooked potato who-"

"Hey, buddy," someone whispered into his ear softly, as they tapped lightly on his shoulder. Christine Everheart's face drained of all colour, and the overconfident African Prince turned to face who he assumed was an admirer.

He was instead faced with an incoming punch, which struck him in the jaw. If he had not been wearing vibranium-laced armour, his jaw would surely have been blown clean off his body. Instead, he was merely thrown across the room. He landed on a heap of clothes and twisted metal, and was given a brief moment to asses the condition of his face. There would be a bruise and his nose was most likely broken. He didn't have time for a more in-depth analysis, however. He was forced to leap to his feet as Jessica Parker, his assailant, landed not far from him.

Azari had, in his time, faced down several fully-grown Tigers. Their ferocity was well-respected among his people, and it was considered a great accomplishment to face one in a fight to death. The look that Jessica gave him, however, was far more terrifying to him than anything a Tiger had ever thrown his way. He was sure even his father would have second-guessed facing her down. But she had struck first, and needed to be put in her place!

"Think that's _funny_ do you, shithead!?" she roared as her hands balled into fists, and began to glow with yellow energy. "See how you like it, when _your_ face is all fucked up!" without pause, she propelled herself forward, and Azari was extremely grateful for the amount of alcohol she had obviously consumed, because she would have no doubt pulverized him in a second otherwise. Her movements where sluggish and telegraphed her intentions. He ducked under her fist and sent a bolt of stinging electricity into her side.

For his efforts, he received a surprise elbow to the face. The blow caught him off-guard, meaning he only managed to get partially out of the way. But her super-strength meant that even a glancing blow hurt like hell. In his daze, she managed to grab him by the throat, and lift him straight into the air, and punch him twice in the stomach. Again, his suit offered him a great deal of protection from her strikes. What would have normally shattered his ribs merely knocked the wind out of him.

"I've had to deal with _fucks_ like you!" she roared as she tossed him back down onto the floor, and straddled him. "For far to _fucking_ long and I-" Azari acted fast, and swept his fingers, which were armed with sharpened claws on the tips, across her cheek, drawing blood. This only infuriated her more, as she cocked back her fist again. At the last second, she was grabbed and hauled back by Pepper and Thor. The latter of whom looked like he actually had to put mild effort into restraining her.

"Show's over, folks," Tony Stark announced flatly, leaving no room for argument as security began to escort people from the building. "That could have gone better."

..xxXxx..

"Who'd have thought hitting someone could be so much fun!?" Jubilee cheered as she skipped across the rooftop. "Well, hang on," she paused, holding up a finger and looking to the man beside her. "That...that didn't come out right. _Helping_ those people was the fun part. _Hitting_ those goons was just icing on the cake."

"Told you it would be," Peter said with a small chuckle as they slowly made their way back to the building that they where supposed to be in.

"You know," she said, thinking out loud more than anything else. "If you'd have told me a year ago that I'd be frying some guy's eyeballs like that in public...I'd probably...I dunno..."

"Fry my eyeballs with your jazz-hands?" he replied, earning a smack on the shoulder from her.

"Probably," Jubilee shrugged with a small sigh, as she turned her eyes upwards, towards the night sky. "I think my hand still hurts from that guy shaking it so hard."

"Well he was just expressing his gratitude," Peter replied as they reached the hatch which led into the building the Gala was being held in. Oddly enough, everything seemed a little too quiet. Like the party had died down significantly. "Just in case you didn't catch the hint when he offered you all the cash those goons took from him."

"Yeah he looked like he wanted to offer his daughter's hand to you," Jubilee said as she flashed a smile his way. He looked away, probably blushing under his mask. She looked down at the small hatch, realizing that a part of her didn't really want to go back down into the building. And she sensed that Peter felt the same way, because neither of them moved to open it. They just remained on the spot, admiring the view.

She looked up again, spotting a shooting star flying across the night sky. Well, at least she thought it was a shooting star. It could have been an airplane, but she chose to believe otherwise. Perhaps one of the few things she missed about living on her own where the quiet moments like this one. Back at Xavier's institute, there was very little time one could have alone to themselves. At one point, she'd taken to sleeping on the roof during warm summer nights. But then the Astronomy club had found her spot, and ruined it with a plethora or telescopes and loud music. And she'd never been allowed to sleep under the trees on the edge of the property. So she took in the moment as best she could.

"They're so pretty, aren't they?" Peter asked, breaking the silence as he too looked up at the stars.

"Yeah," she replied, "yeah, they are, aren't they? So fascinating."

"I think I really discovered them for the first time when I was about seven," Peter said as he clapped his hands together. "I'd stay up until one or two o'clock in the morning just _staring_ at them. Of course, eventually my Aunt and Uncle got _pissed_ and made me stop."

"Why?" she asked.

"My grades dropped from a _99%_ to a _98%"_ he replied, causing them both break out in a small fit of laughter.

"So you where always the smart kid?" she grinned, as she found a wall to lean against.

"Well yeah," Peter shrugged in response. "Kinda. I guess it's an unfair advantage. Something about...me...makes my brain work faster than other people, right? That's part of why I can react so fast. Jess's got it too, but not as much, I think." Jubilee nodded, having almost guessed as much, even with her limited knowledge on Peter and Jessica's past life. "So anyways I learn a lot faster than other people. I could have been taking college and university courses by the time I was nine, if I'd wanted to."

"And did you?" she pondered, saying anything to keep them from having to go back down.

"No," he said with a small shake of his head. "No I didn't. My Uncle wouldn't let me. He said" Peter paused for a moment, like something was caught in his throat. "He said that I needed to be learning with kids my own age. But as long as I kept my grades up, he let me study what I wanted to in my free time. So there's that."

"And what does he think of his genius nephew now?" Jubilee smiled as she brushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes. "going and running around in spandex? I mean, he was a cop, right? You said-"

"I think it's time we go back down," Peter said, cutting her off abruptly as he leaned down and opened the hatch. He didn't say anything, but she got the sense that she'd stepped on a nerve, and decided not to pursue the conversation, instead changing it's course as they descended the ladder that led into the kitchen area.

"I'll be Thor's wolfed down all the food," she said, trying to lighten the mood slightly. "And Cap's probably trying not to drown in pussy."

"I'm picturing a bunch of Soccer-Moms grabbing at him like they're a zombie horde or something," Peter replied, a bit of the humour back in his voice. Not as much as before, but enough to make her feel a little bit better.

"Well then, we'd better go save him, Rick Grimes!" she laughed, in spite of herself.

"Please, if anything I'm Daryl and-" he said as he opened the double-door which lead to the main hall, where there where supposed to be hundreds of people bustling about.

Only, there weren't. The only people left where their teammates, minus Jessica. Thor and pepper where busy re-assembling a display of clothes. Azari's face was being tended to by Hank. Jean and Steve where exchanging quick words, and Tony was simply tapping his cane on the ground when they entered. A few eyes flew up to greet them, then quickly looked back down. Only Tony and Steve walked over to them.

"Where were you two?" the senior Stark asked plainly.

"Out," Jubilee replied with a small shrug, "you said we didn't have to stay and-"

"I know what I said," Tony snapped back, cutting her off. "But it probably would have been better if you'd stayed. Particularly _you,"_ he said, looking directly at Peter. In response, Peter leaned back and put his hands behind his head, looking from the ruined display, to Azari and Hank, then back to Tony.

"What did she do _this time?"_ was Peter's response, causing everyone within earshot to look at him questioningly. Not wanting to look stupid, Jubilee glanced at Jean, hoping she could telepathically fill her in. But she didn't have to, as Azari more than beat her to it.

"Your bitch sister hit _me!"_ the Wakandan Prince shouted, his voice breaking the silence like glass. "She's crazy!"

"What did you do?" Peter replied calmly. Jubilee had to give him some credit. He was more calm than she would have been in his position. "You said something to set her off, right?"

"I didn't say a damn-!" Azari began, only for Steve to cut him off with an authoritative gesture.

"You compared Peter to a goddamn over-cooked potato," Steve snapped viciously, thrusting his finger at the Prince as he spoke. "You sure as hell aren't innocent. But!" he continued as he turned back to face Peter. "There had better be a damned good reason for her to go and-"

"There is," Peter replied softly, as he slowly brushed past Steve and made his way to the 'centre' of the group. "You all might as well pull up a chair and get comfy. I'm only going over this _once,"_ he said with perfect clarity. Everyone, even those who had pretended to not be listening, did just that, forming a semi-circle around him. Jubilee herself was sandwiched between Jean and Hank. "tonight was..." Peter said as he pulled his mask off, freeing his scarred features. "probably...no, _definitely_ the worst night to go and tick my sister off," he said.

"Why?" Pepper asked.

"Because," Peter said, "this is the tenth anniversary of the biggest regret in her life."

 **A/N: Well, what did you think of this chapter? Anything you liked? Anything you hated? Let me know in a review! The next chapter will almost be entirely in flashback, so get ready!**


	8. The worst birthday

_**A/N: Disclaimer: this chapter contains gruesome content that may disturb some readers. If you chose to ignore this and continue anyways, you do so at your own discretion. Also note that the rating of this story has changed from 'T' to 'M'.**_

 **Ten Years Ago:**

The sound of the school-bell ringing was almost music to the ears of the many souls inside who felt trapped. Finally, after a long, gruelling week, they where free to do as they pleased! It was the weekend, and they where now free to hang out with friends all day, to play video games and lounge about to their heart's content.

And Jessica Parker intended to take full advantage of this particular weekend. After all, it _was_ her seventeenth birthday. That wasn't an occasion she was going to pass up lightly. So, with a smile on her face, she practically _skipped_ out of her fourth-period class, and made a beeline for her locker.

" _Heeyyy!"_ her best friend, Sarah Leeman, called out as she slid into place beside Jessica, a wide grin crossing her face. "how's the birthday girl?" she asked coyly, "got any plans for tonight?"

"Oh yeah," Jessica replied enthusiastically as she reached into her bag. "Check _these_ babies out!" she said as she produced a pair of concert tickets for her favourite band, _Linkin Park._ Sarah practically fawned over them, as she was an equally big fan as well. "Scored them late last night! You in?" she said, knowing she really didn't have to ask.

"Fuck yeah!" Sarah replied excitedly, as she practically jumped up-and-down on the spot. "How'd you even afford these?! They're like a hundred a piece!?"

"Well that's the beauty of having a part-time job," Jessica shrugged absentmindedly. "plus add in a dash of odd jobs around the neighbourhood, and _bingo,"_ she smiled, "Two tickets to the hottest thing in this dump of a city! Woo-Hoo!"

"And _the Fuzz_ doesn't have a problem with you going?" Sarah asked with a raised eyebrow. She knew full well that Jessica's police-officer uncle had difficulty letting her go to similar events, given how many times he had to break up concerts for drug use, among other things.

"Well he does," Jessica replied simply with a small shrug. "But I batted my eyes, plus I've always got good grades, and it's on my birthday, so..." the facts had certainly played out in her favour, though she wasn't always so lucky. "It was difficult, but he caved eventually," she said as the two of them began to wind their way through the school's hallway.

"Well sounds like he should owe you a _few,"_ Sarah said as they stepped outside the building. "I mean," she clarified, "if what you told me about the little twerp getting bumped up a few grades! At the rate he's going, he might graduate with us! Maybe even before!" Jessica let out a small shudder. Though her Aunt and Uncle hadn't said anything official yet, she'd seen and read the letters of recommendation from the school-board for Peter to skip a few grades, and jump into High School next year. Something which Jessica was vehemently opposed to. She'd worked _hard_ to carve out her social standing with her peers.

"Yeah well that's _not_ happening," Jessica replied stiffly as they came to a stop underneath a large oak tree. "I don't care _how_ many letters they send. I'm _not_ going to the same school as my weird-as-fuck brother. I think I'd transfer before that happens." Sarah nodded in agreement. Because they'd been friends for so long, she knew exactly how much of annoyance Peter could be. He'd ruined outings with friends, parties and other social activities with his mere presence. And things where already difficult because of their shared, _special_ nature. Something which Sarah was privy too, thankfully. She was a good sounding board, and confidante.

"Hey I'd transfer with you," Sarah offered with a weak smile. "I mean, so long as we check out the school first. Wanna make sure it's top-notch."

"The 'school'?" Jessica shot back playfully, "or the boys in it?"

"Well..." Sarah grinned, feigning indecisiveness as she pretended to weigh the options in her hands. "I mean-" _HONK! HONK!_ Their conversation was quickly interrupted by a loud, all-to-familiar sounding horn. Jessica didn't even have to turn around to see who was in the vehicle. "sucks to be you," Sarah sighed as she looked over Jessica's shoulder. "Looks like he picked out the ugliest squad car he could find today. Just for you!"

"That sounds like my Uncle Ben," Jessica sighed with a hint of defeat. "See you later!" she chimed before turning around and walking towards the gawdy-looking police car, much to the amusement of her fellow students.

Of course, her Uncle Ben sat in the driver's seat wearing a crisp uniform proudly. A dumb smile crossed his face as he watched his niece approach. A grin which was matched tenfold by that of her younger brother, Peter. He sat beside their Uncle, with his eyes darting between the two of them, the science book in his lap and the comic book in his hands. And to complete the ensemble, there was god-awful country music playing loudly.

With a huff, she slid into the back seat, wanting nothing more than to slip on her earbuds and day-dream about what her night was going to be like. But knowing the other two people in the car, there was no way that was going to happen. No sooner had she closed the car door than her Uncle turned around and offered up a big, fake, "so how was your day, honey?"

"Fine," Jessica said as she rolled her eyes, just wanting to get out of there.

"What? No, ' _It was the best, Uncle Ben! I learned Soooooo much!'?"_ he chuckled to his own lame joke as Peter gave him a high-five. "No? Not even a sarcastic 'it was _great'_? Complete with an eye-roll?" he asked, just as Jessica did the latter. "Come on, there's been a small change of plans," he continued as he put the car into drive. "We've gotta swing by the store before I drop you two off at home."

"Why?" Peter piped up.

"Your Aunt got called out-of-town for a meeting at the last minute," Uncle Ben replied. And although his eyes remained firmly on the road, he still turned his attention to Jessica, who's thoughts had immediately turned to her plans for the night. They had practically hinged on her Aunt being there to watch Peter. "I've called Rebbecca to see if she can watch you tonight, Peter."

"Why can't you?" Peter asked.

"I agreed to pull an extra shift tonight," Uncle Ben replied. "Frank's wife is about to go into labour. So I'm gonna make sure he's got the night off. Don't worry," he said as he flashed Jessica a smile through the rear-view mirror. "I've got a few hours until then. Plenty of time for cake and ice cream and presents!"

...xxXxx...

 **Present Day:**

"Wait, wait," Steve piped up, waving his hand through the air as he spoke. "Why was your Uncle picking you guys up?" he asked, as the other Avengers nodded in agreement with his question. "Why wouldn't your-?"

"Parents?" Peter chirped in response, having expected this question to pop up at some point in his story. He had actually expected it to come up sooner. "Car crash when I was seven months old, and Jess was six years old."

"Oh," the Captain replied sorrowfully. Everyone else, even Azari, who sat further back from the rest of the group as he continued to nurse the nasty shiner Jessica had given him, looked down at the floor. Like they where ashamed of something they had absolutely no control over. "I'm sorry, I didn't know and-"

"Well why would you?" was Peter's quick response. "It's not like I have much to talk about them for. For all intents and purposes, Ben and May are as much my mom and dad as they where. Now I-" he said, only to be interrupted again, this time by Hank McCoy, who politely raised a hand. "Yes?" Peter nodded, indicating he could speak up.

"How exactly do you know what she was saying and doing inside the school?" the furred Mutant Doctor asked. "You weren't there, and it was so long ago?"

"Both me and Jess are blessed and cursed with a perfect memory," Peter replied with a small shrug. "plus she talks a lot in her sleep. And she wrote a lot of stuff down. You don't forget days like that," he said, as his tone dropped down a little bit.

"Are you sure you want to continue...?" Jean Grey asked sympathetically. "I mean, I think we'd all understand if-"

"No," Peter replied sharply, with vigour. "No. You need to know the _whole_ story. Start to Finish. You've all told us more than a fair share about yourselves. It's my turn," he said with a small sigh. "Now where was I...the cake. Right."

...xxXxx...

 **Ten Years Ago:**

"Whoa, watch out!" Uncle Ben chortled as the blender he was using began to go wild, threatening to fly off the counter as it mixed it's contents in a flurry of whirling blades. "Almost had to go and change my shirt!" he said with a booming laugh.

"Again," Peter smirked, as he pointed to his Uncle's other shirt, which had been splattered with chocolate icing, thanks to the rapid beating it had taken from a spoon Ben had taken to it. Thankfully it wasn't his police uniform, just and old tee shirt. "You shoulda spun it counter-clockwise! Then you'd have been safe!"

"Safe huh?" Uncle Ben smirked as the blender finished it's session. "What makes you so sure, wise-guy?"

"Newtons First Law!" Peter replied with a huge grin. "An object in motion will stay in motion until acted upon by an external force!" he continued as he helped his Uncle empty the contents of the blender into a large mixing bowl. "You where that external force!" he said as he lightly smacked his Uncle's shoulder.

"Alright, smart guy!" Uncle Ben snickered as he snatched the cookbook out of Peter's reach. "You earned this! Now you've either got to make this entire thing without help...or go tell your sister the party's off!"

"Oh yeah?" Peter said playfully. "Preheat oven to three-sixty. Melt butter in pan. Mix flour, sugar, eggs and-"

"Alright, alright!" Uncle Ben grinned as he locked Peter in a headlock. Unlike with a normal child, he didn't need to hold back. In fact, Peter was getting to the point where _he_ had to hold back a bit, even at nine years old. "You got me there, Einstein!" he said as he released Peter and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're too smart for your own good, you know that, right?"

"Yep!" Peter replied proudly with a nod. "I'm already the top student in my year in the whole district!"

"Well no need to be so humble!" Uncle Ben snorted as he picked up a handful of loose Baking Flour and tossed it at his nephew. "Is it not good enough being the second-smartest person in this household?"

"Second-smartest?" Peter said, taken aback by the insult.

"Second-smartest!" Uncle Ben repeated gleefully. "Who else do you know that can recite the entirety of Bohemian Rhapsody? Who knows all the good lines from Clint Eastwood Movies?" he said confidently. "Me, of course!"

"You?" Peter shot back. "Says who?"

"Says me!" Uncle Ben replied as he picked Peter up and swung him around. "I _am_ the law in this house...only because May's not here...but that's beside the point!" he said as he set his nephew down and put his hands on his hips.

"Yeah well!" Peter grinned as he imitated his Uncle's posture. "One day I'm gonna be the law in this house! I'm gonna be _Chief of Police!"_ he said proudly, as his Uncle's expression changed dramatically. From one of joy to one of slight concern. "You..." Peter said, suddenly unsure of himself. "right? Do you think I could be a cop like you?"

"I ummm," Uncle Ben replied as he stroked his chin, something he did when he was at a loss for words. "I think," he said as he knelt down, so that he was eye-level with his nephew. "I think that you, and your sister, can be _anything_ you want to be, Peter. You're both just that special. You would make a _great_ cop," he said as he clapped Peter on the shoulder. "But something tells me that you two are meant for more than-" his ringing cell phone cut off the rest of what he was going to say. And Peter got to watch as his Uncle's expression changed from uncertain to disappointed.

...xxXxx...

 **Present Day:**

"Well it's all well and good to know where your pretentious sense of honour came from," Azari quipped sarcastically, "but what the hell does this shit have to do with your sister being a crazy bitc _OUCH!"_ he grunted as he was struck by a discarded pop can that Jubilee had side-armed at him.

"Shut the fuck up before I give you a matching set," Jubilee snipped at him, before turning her attention back to Peter. "So he didn't want you to be a cop? Why not?"

"A few things," Peter shrugged as he wrung his hands together. "Mainly he told me that I was too smart for it. He pushed me into Science. I guess he figured I'd do more good there. But I don't think that was the only reason."

"He thought you two might be Mutants," Hank surmised somewhat correctly, "and wanted to save you from the persecution we all get, right?"

"Well, somewhat," Peter replied as he motioned with his hands. "He knew that we where different at that point. He'd know for a few years. But the persecution wasn't as bad back then. And he-"

"Wasn't this just after that maniac blew up a police station?" Pepper interjected suddenly. "You'd think that after a thing like that, he'd have done everything he could to hide the fact that you're so...different. Wouldn't he?" she asked intently.

"It was before that," Peter said, "just before that happened. No, like I said, I think he just thought we had better prospects than police work. I guess he was _sort of_ right. In a way. Anyways..."

...xxXxx...

 **Ten Years Ago:**

" _WHAT!?"_ Jessica practically roared, not able to believe what she had just heard her Uncle say. No. No way it could be true. She hoped that she had heard him wrong. She _had_ to have heard him wrong.

"Jessica," Uncle Ben said in an extremely calm tone of voice. "The sitter called. She can't come in. She has to work tonight." A lump formed in the base of Jessica's throat. She did not like what she was hearing.

"Yeah," Jessica spat back, " _she has to work tonight._ Here!" she snapped, thrusting a finger down at the floor. She'd worked too hard to go to the concert only to have it yanked out from under her feet.

"Jessica," her Uncle said calmly as he took a few steps toward her. "It's not that simple. It was short notice. Your Aunt didn't know she'd have to go out of town and-"

"Then _tell her_ to come back!" Jessica bellowed as she threw her arms into the air.

"She's an hour away by plane," Uncle Ben said, still keeping his voice down, unlike Jessica was. "And she can't leave. I'm sorry Honey but-"

"Then _you_ watch him!" she shouted, swinging her arm in the general direction of Peter's bedroom. "You volunteered for a shift tonight! Just tell the guy that-!"

"Frank's wife went into labour!" Ben replied in a tone that sounded like he was trying to be sympathetic. Deep down, Jessica knew she shouldn't be mad at him, it wasn't all his fault. But it was just so unfair, and she needed someone to blame. "I can't just ask him to miss the birth of his first kid, can I?"

"Well you're asking _me_ to miss something important!" Jessica screamed back at him as she tore up the staircase, making a beeline for her bedroom. She didn't pay any attention to what she was doing, or she would have noticed how she shoved Peter out of her way, even as the tears streamed down her face. Uncle Ben followed her of course, stopping behind her slammed door.

"I understand you're upset, Jessica," he offered through her closed door. She didn't even look up. She just sat in the farthest corner of her room, hating the World. Hating her Uncle. Hating her Brother. "Look, sometimes these things happen. We don't always get what we want and-"

"Leave me alone," Jessica snapped back.

"I'm doing my best to find a last-minute sitter," Ben continued, undeterred from her hostile attitude. "But the reality of the situation is that there's only half an hour before I have to go and-"

" _Whatever,"_ Jessica hissed at him venomously as she grabbed her laptop, and began furiously typing a scathing post on one of her many social media accounts.

"And I need to know that I can trust you to watch-" he said calmly.

" _Fine!"_ she snapped, just wanting to be left alone for the night. Since everything else was ruined, apparently.

"Okay," Her Uncle replied soothingly, "I _should_ be home by four a.m. We can discuss how I'm going to make this up to you tomorrow." there was a brief pause, as he waited for Jessica to say something. Only she didn't have anything to say to him, unless the next words out of his mouth where ' _gotcha!' 'fooled ya!'_ or ' _you've been punked!'_. Minutes ticked by as she lost hope of that possibility. A feeling of bitterness swelled in her stomach as she contemplated what he'd said. How did he plan on paying her back? It was the last night of the concert, so it wasn't like she could just go tomorrow. And while they weren't poor, they couldn't afford a trip into the next town hosting the band. And it could be _years_ before they came back to Queens.

"Okay," he said softly, through the door. "I'll see you tomorrow. I love you."

"Go away," she replied, refusing to move until she heard the front door click shut and his car pull away into the street. Only then did she open her door and make her way downstairs.

Ben and Peter had done a modestly good job of at least _trying_ to decorate for her birthday. Not that she'd really asked them too. A goofy 'Happy Birthday' banner hung along the one wall, there where chips and dip laid out on the table, all her favourite. And even a select few gifts sat beside the bowls.

She plopped herself down on the couch, knowing that sooner or later her brother would make himself seen. She'd brought her laptop with her, and continued to browse social media. A small tear dropped down the side of her face as she saw that her friend Sarah was already on her way to the show, as Jessica had given her the ticket previously. They where supposed to be sitting together, so there had been no real need to meet up beforehand. A small part of her considered sending Sarah a text, explaining why she wasn't going. But Jessica wasn't quite sure if that was true or not yet. Her uncle _had_ said that he was still trying to find someone.

" _Boo!"_ Peter exclaimed as he dropped down from the ceiling, in a vain attempt to scare her. She flinched slightly, but more because she was afraid he might land on her laptop than anything. The last thing she needed was for him to go and break her one venting outlet. "Gotcha that time!" he smirked as he plumped onto the couch beside her. Close enough to be invading her personal space.

"Yeah," she snipped, not necessarily angry at _him,_ per say.She was just mad because of him. "You got me."

"You're damn right I did!" Peter chuckled as he slapped his hands against his knees. He looked from her, to the presents, then back to her before saying, "well go on!" he insisted, indicating towards her gifts.

"Not in the mood," she sighed as she returned her attention to her laptop.

"Come on!" he said with a mock pouting face.

"No," she replied.

"Please!" Peter pleaded longingly, "One's from me!"

"Well no shit Sherlock!" Jessica snapped back, "I _can_ count you know!"

"Open it then!" he said as he grabbed one from the small pile, presumably his, and placed it in front of her.

"Not in the mood," she half-snapped back at him as she tossed it aside. "Now leave me alone, twerp." She didn't notice, but the gift fell to the ground, and Peter's eyes flashed with dejection. With a sombre tone, he sighed and got up. She didn't watch to see where he was going, only that he'd left the room as she finally made up her mind about what she was going to do.

...xxXxx...

 **Present Day:**

"Wow." Jean muttered softly, "who'd have thought...I mean, from what you're describing...she was a whole different person!" Both Hank and Steve nodded in agreement. Even Azari looked to be somewhat shocked by what Peter was saying. He understood their confusion. Jessica had changed a lot in a short amount of time. It was sometimes hard for even him to remember that she had once been so distant from him.

"Well, she was," Peter replied with a small shrug.

"Yeah, no kidding," Jubilee added in. "No offence, but it sounds like she was kind of a..."

"Bitch?" Peter offered with a raised eyebrow. Everyone present nodded in agreement. "Yeah, she was sometimes. But everyone has their off days. And I wasn't always the easiest person to be around...in fact some people don't think that's changed at all. Anyways I never took much of what she said to heart. Up until then she was always there when I needed her, like a good big sister."

"Sounds like you where lucky then," Hank said as he tried to stifle a yawn.

"Still am," Peter grinned. "Even-"

"What did you mean, 'up until then?'" Azari cut in, as he actually moved his chair in closer, to better hear and interact with the group.

"I was just getting to that."

...xxXxx...

 **Ten Years Ago:**

"You brushed your teeth, right?" Jessica hummed through Peter's closed door. She hadn't actually seen him since she'd brushed him off three hours ago. All she'd heard from him where the sounds of him playing video games, and that was enough for her.

"Yes," came his response. Good enough _,_ in her books. She checked the clock on the wall. It was quarter to ten. His weekend bed-time was in fifteen minutes. And since he was such a stickler for following rules, he wasn't going to dare try and break that one.

"Half an hour," she told herself. That's how long she had until she could feasibly make her getaway into the night. The concert was set to begin in just over an hour. So she did the mental math. There was no way she'd be able to get a cab to drive her in time, so she knew that flying was the only way to be sure she'd be there on time. "Alright," she said, "lights out in fifteen, got it?"

"'K," Peter replied, sounding extremely bored. Accepting this answer, Jessica stepped away from his door and whipped out her phone, seeing that she'd received a message from Sarah. ' _ETA_?' she'd asked. _'in twenty,'_ Jessica replied as she glanced towards the clock again, practically counting the minutes she had before she could leave. She pressed an ear against the door to Peter's room. She could hear shuffling, followed by a _thwump,_ which told her he was in his bed.

As the next fifteen minutes passed by, a small part of her wanted to say something then and there, to apologize for how she'd blown him off earlier. And for what she was about to do. But doing so would put her plan in jeopardy. She resolved to make it up to him somehow, just as she shut the lights off and slipped out the door.

She stole into the night, slipping past houses at a speed that could best be described as a brisk jog, until she reached a mostly-abandoned park. Aside from a few drunks, she was completely isolated, and was free to take off into the night sky.

Normally, she didn't abuse her powers like that, given how easy it would be for someone to mistake her for a Mutant. But she weighed the pro's and con's, finding that the benefits where well worth the risks. The wind ripped at her hair as she silently sliced through the air. Not far off in the distance she could see the concert venue, which rippled with lights.

She swung wide to avoid the bright lights, not wanting to be spotted. Instead she opted for a dark alley not far from the venue. Even from the air she could tell it was abandoned, save for a few cats. She was able to land with no trouble, and walked out like it was nothing!

After walking for a few blocks, she reached the venue, presented her ticket and prepared for the night of her life!

Thousands of people where crowded into the venue. Definitely more than there should have been. But Jessica was able to manage without any problems. She'd memorized the way to her seat beforehand, and slipping through a large crowd was no problem for her, especially when she could simply push people out of the way with ease.

In no time at all music began to swell in her ears. A steady beat of clapping hands and hollering shouts filled the air by the time she reached her destination. She cheered beside Sarah as lights began to flash in a wide array of colours.

The party was on!

...xxXxx...

Silence. That was all Peter could hear. Just plain silence. And that worried him enough to get him to snap his eyes open. His irises adjusted almost immediately to the pitch-black conditions, yet another benefit of being whatever he was.

He still waited, wondering if the silence was merely temporary. He counted the seconds in his head, growing more and more concerned as time passed. As soon as he got to thirty seconds he got out of bed. No way anyone could go that long without making sound. Especially when they where supposedly in the next room over.

He slid silently over the carpet, just in case he had been wrong and Jessica was indeed sleeping. He opened his door with only the smallest squeak. The hallway was only marginally brighter than his room, thanks to a small night-light plugged into the wall right next to the bathroom.

He listened closely, hearing nothing coming from Jessica's room. Which to him, meant there where two distinct possibilities. But he cleared that up by simply poking his head inside. Her bed had not been disturbed. Which was both frightening and comforting at the same time.

He bolted down the stairs, hoping that she was still in the living room, possibly asleep.

Nope, she wasn't there. .

He checked the basement, maybe she had gone down there so she wouldn't wake him up?

Nope, she wasn't there either.

Front Yard? No.

Back Yard? No.

He forced himself to calm down. There was a simple solution. He was given a cell phone for emergency purposes. All he had to do was find it, and send Jessica a text message. She'd respond quickly, he knew that.

Setting the phone down, he plumped himself down on the couch and turned on the T.V, to better pass the time. A documentary was showing, covering the existence of meta-humans in the modern world. Several people where debating whether or not Mutants represented the next stage in human evolution. In his opinion, the people speaking had little authority on the subject, save for a balding man in a wheelchair, who's name was Charles Xavier. He was supposedly a world-renowned expert on genetics, and Peter was ninety percent sure he was a Mutant himself, despite the fact that he kept denying as such.

Half an hour ticked by as Peter watched the men go back-and forth in their debate. Facts where presented, disproved and defended as the clock swept past midnight, and Peter grew slightly more concerned.

He pondered calling Uncle Ben, to tell him Jessica was missing. But he didn't want to cause him any trouble at work. And he certainly didn't want to get his sister in any trouble. And it was nice having the house to himself for a few hours. He could watch whatever he wanted after all, which was the dream of every nine-year old boy.

He snacked on chips, drank pop and watched programs that he'd _never_ be allowed to watch if anyone else was home to his heart's content. Of course he was careful to make sure no one would know of his little indiscretion and cleaned up after himself. Of course he put away the cake he and his Uncle had made for Jessica, but he did wrap up a slice for her and put it just inside her door. He wasn't mad at her, after all.

But, looking back at the doorway. He wouldn't have to be, as his Uncle was more than furious as he stood in the foyer to the house. It was a look Peter had never seen on him before, and one he never wanted to see again. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Peter was actually _scared_ of his Uncle. And he knew he had no reason to be.

"Let's go," Uncle Ben said curtly, as he led Peter out the door. Together, they got into his squad car, and Peter noticed a rather nicely-wrapped gift sitting there in the front seat. Most likely some sort of peace offering he had wanted to offer Jessica. Not that she'd be getting it now, of course. As they pulled out into the driveway, Uncle Ben got on the radio.

"George, you there?" he asked.

"Yeah," the voice of George Stacy, Uncle Ben's long-time friend and one-time partner. "How'd the birthday girl-?"

"She bolted," Uncle Ben spat back as they turned a corner. "Snuck out after I left." He paused briefly before continuing. "I'm bringing Peter back to the station. And I was hoping you might be able to send a car over to Broadway Ave, if you can spare it. That's where she went."

"I'll see if I can spare someone," George replied before Uncle Ben signed off the radio. Looking up at his Uncle, Peter could see that he was still fuming mad, in a way that made him very uncomfortable to watch. The two of them simply sat in silence for the next few minutes, neither having anything to say to the other. Peter just passed the time by looking out the window of the squad car at the night sky. It took them a little over half an hour to reach the Police Station.

Peter had been inside the station before a few times. Mostly for surprise visits to his Uncle, as well as two field trips with his classroom. So there was nothing really that new about it. He knew most of the people inside by name. And those he didn't know by name he recognized by face.

Quietly, his Uncle led him into an unused room in the back.

" _Try_ and get some sleep," Uncle Ben said with a deep sigh as he passed his jacket to Peter. "And after I find Jessica, I'll take you two home. Alright?"

"Alright," Peter nodded as his eyes began to droop slightly. It was nearly two in the morning. It didn't take very long for him to drift off into a deep sleep.

...xxXxx...

The music thundered in her ears as the crowd continued to move their bodies to a steady beat. Jessica had wormed her way through the crowd, trying to get closer to the front of the stage. It wasn't that difficult for her to do, she just had to be overly 'friendly' to guys and they gave her a free pass.

She truly was having a night to remember as she waved her arms in the air wildly, completely carefree. In the back of her mind she felt something shaking, but just passed that off as another concert-goer moving past her. Of course she still checked to make sure she had her wallet and phone with her, which she did.

Her partying reached it's peak as she finally reached the stage. She was close enough to the band that if she wanted, she could reach out and _touch_ one of them. An idea which she was seriously considering, until the lights went dark and the music stopped abruptly. A momentary chill ran down her spine as she wondered if her Uncle had somehow discovered what she'd done, and had used his Police privileges to have the whole concert shut down just to spite her. But she dismissed the idea. The worst thing he'd do would be ground her for a month or two, and maybe have her do some work around the community.

But no, neither of those where the case.

"Sorry folks," said the event manager as he stepped onto the stage. Everyone turned to give the man their full attention. "Something's happened downtown. Information is sketchy right now but the Police have ordered a city-wide lock-down. So you'd better get on home before it's too late." A massive grumble rolled through the stadium. Clearly no one was happy with the idea. And they where even less impressed with what came next. "And we won't be offering any refunds." With a heavy, sinking heart Jessica joined the slow ambling line that headed towards the main exit. No one, including her, was eager to leave.

Before long she was reunited with Sarah, who looked to be just about as impressed as Jessica was. The two of them sauntered through the long hall, all the while hearing snippets of conversation regarding the lock-down.

"...brother's in the Fire Department... somethin' about a gas leak..."

"...terrorist attack?"

"...some sort sort of standoff?"

"maybe a big gang bust?"

"Was the President shot maybe?!"

Neither of the girls really listened to what everyone else was saying, they where so caught up in their own little world as they exited the venue and walked out onto the streets of New York.

"Oh man," Jessica said as she stretched her arms back, "aside from that last bit, this has been the best night ever!" she proclaimed with confidence.

"Damn straight," Sarah replied, as Jessica felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Which of course, set off an alarm in her head. She immediately pulled out her phone and her heart skipped several beats. There where seventeen text messages, and five missed phone calls. All from the same number. A lump formed in her throat as she read through them, all of which asked her _exactly_ where she was. As she read through them, she realized that they became more and more agitated and angry.

Apparently Uncle Ben _had_ been able to arrange for a babysitter last-minute. And he had gone to pick Peter up to drop him off. But when he had discovered that Jessica was gone, that had all changed. Now she was in a whole _mountain_ of trouble. "What?" Sarah asked.

"I got caught," Jessica replied with a heavy heart. "And now I'm in for it. I-" she was cut off as six Firetrucks screamed past, with their sirens blaring at full volume. They cut a swath through the streets as they made their way towards their destination. "He wants me to go down to the station..."

"Well," Sarah replied jokingly as she put a hand on Jessica's shoulder. "It was good knowing you! But I'm not sticking my neck out like that!"

"Yeah," Jessica nodded mournfully, wondering if this was the last time she'd be allowed out on her own for a while. "Yeah. See you Monday. 

"Yeah," her best friend nodded with a weak, comforting smile. "See you," she said as the two of them parted ways. _How quickly this went from being the best night ever,_ Jessica pondered as she casually wound her way through the streets, _to the worst. I mean, it's not like Peter could gave gotten hurt at home or anything, he was supposed to be sleeping. And he's not exactly an idiot who's gonna stick a knife in the toaster. He'd build a robot arm to do that for him._ She rounded corner after corner, noticing just how few people there where around her. Which was very odd, for the city that never slept.

In fact the only people who where around her seemed to be walking in the opposite direction as she was. And in a rather hurried manner. But no one was speaking, they where too busy hobbling away from something unseen.

It didn't take Jessica long to find out what they where running from.

...xxXxx...

A single shout roused Peter from his half-sleep. Groggily, he set aside the coat his Uncle had placed over him as a makeshift blanket in order to go discover what was making the racket. For the past two hours, the Police Station had been nothing but quiet. But as every second ticked by the noise level seemed to grow.

He opened the door a crack, just enough to see two officers jog past it, whispering rapidly to one another. Apparently there had been a rather large bust of a Mutant Community hiding in the sewers. With his interest piqued, Peter crept along the side of the wall behind the two officers, wanting to see some of the action for himself.

No less then fifteen people where being brought in. All of them where wearing tattered clothing and worn-out expressions. They where led along in a line by six officers, with ten more trailing behind. The ones in behind where more heavily armed, but the ones in front where clearly in charge. Off tot eh side, Peter could see his Uncle taking down names from a man dressed in full SWAT gear. He was so caught up in his work that he didn't notice his nephew. The two where saying something about there not being enough room in the cells in another station, which was why they where being transferred there for processing.

Most of the Mutants where compliant with the Police. But a few seemed to require more persuasion, via a long cattle-prod like device.

"Move it, freaks!" one of the SWAT officers snarled as he jabbed one of them. The surge of electricity forced the Mutant, who looked like he was no older than fifteen, to drop to his knees. He screamed in pain, but his refusal to comply with the officer's demand was met with more jabs. Which was followed by more screams as more officers joined in.

Taking note of his nephew, Uncle Ben moved to shush him aside. "You don't need to see this," he said as he tried to push Peter into the farthest corridor. But Peter's curiosity got the better of him, and he darted out from behind his Uncle just quick enough to see the same young Mutant rise to his feet with a look of pure rage in his eyes.

" _LEAVE ME ALONE!_ " the boy screamed as the cuffs around his wrists grew white-hot. They melted away into nothing as every officer present raised their weapons at him. Even Uncle Ben did so, but not before firmly planting himself between the Mutant and Peter.

"John Alderyce, stand down right now!" an Officer said with distinct authority. "Get on the ground, and put your hands above your head!"

" _LET ME GO!"_ the Mutant screamed as the impossible happened. His hands became engulfed in balls of fire. Everyone took a few steps back, but no one turned heel to run.

"On the ground now!" the officer roared as he cocked the side of his gun. "Or we _will_ kill you."

"No."

The sound that followed would haunt Peter's dreams forever. His eardrums where filled with a powerful roar, like that of a Lion's. A heartbeat later came a powerful _whoosh_ sound, like waves crashing against rocks on the shoreline. His eyes grew wide as an arc of flame lashed out in all directions. Everyone ducked away from it, and those who where not luck enough to avoid it where tossed aside from the shock-wave that followed in it's wake.

Either Uncle Ben was too slow to avoid being hit, or he chose not to move. Irregardless he to was knocked aside, taking Peter down with him. Bits of burning paper flew through the air as everyone tried to recover from the sudden attack.

But only the young Mutant in the centre remained on his feet.

"Are you alright?" Uncle Ben asked Peter, as he pushed himself to one knee. Peter could only nod an answer. He wasn't hurt. But he sure as hell was scared. And so was his Uncle. "Stay right here. Understand?" he said as he cupped the side of Peter's cheek, before getting up and facing the Pyrokinetic Mutant head-on, along with several other officers. All of them levelled their guns again.

But to no avail. With a scream the Mutant unleashed a second, more powerful surge of fire. Heat washed over the entire room as everyone was forced to the ground again. However this time, tongues of fire latched onto wooden desks, loose papers, and even the clothes of Officers.

The formerly calm Police Station turned into a madhouse as the fire-wielding Mutant went on a deranged rampage. Anything he touched erupted in flames, and the very air grew hot as an oven. Police Officers shot at him, of course, but their bullets seemed to melt before they reached him.

"Peter, run!" Uncle Ben shouted as he shoved him along, firing his gun blindly at the raging Mutant. Peter pumped his legs as he tried to break into a dead run. But something flew in front of him, and crashed into the wall, spreading fire to both the wall and the floor.

But what was more horrifying was the fact that it was a man who had been thrown. A man who was now burning alive. His screams where only barely heard above the roar of the flames. But his convulsions where clear as day as Peter ran around him.

Something hot lashed against his back as he was thrown to the floor, with something heavy falling on top of him. The air had grown so hot that he began to choke on his own breath. His skin prickled as he moved whatever it was off of him to get a better look at his surroundings.

The whole station was engulfed in flames. Everywhere he looked people where either screaming in pain, or not moving at all. He couldn't take everything in at once, it was overwhelming. Tears streamed down his face as he spun around, looking for the exit, or a window. Some way he could get out.

But all he could see was an unending sea of fire on all sides.

Something caught his leg, causing him to trip and fall. Hot embers splashed against his back as he looked at what had caused him to trip.

It was Uncle Ben's arm. A section of the roof had caved in. And at the last second, Uncle Ben had pushed Peter out of harm's way as two large beams came crashing down on them.

"No!" Peter cried as he tried to pry the wooden beams off his Uncle's unconscious form. In the back of his mind he could feel the skin on his hands searing off, but he didn't care. With ease he tossed the wooden beams aside, not caring what he wrecked with them as he pulled his Uncle out of the fire.

His Uniform was ablaze, and Peter couldn't pat the flames out fast enough. Not matter how fast his hands worked, it wasn't enough. And before long, the flames on his Uncle's uniform spread to Peter's baggy clothes. Fear encased him as he tried to pull his shirt off. But it was far to late for that.

He screamed an ungodly howl as he felt his own skin begin to boil from the intense heat. The pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced before in his short life. Desperately he tried to ' _stop, drop and roll',_ but that only spread the flames farther along his body. He convulsed in agony, writhing in the oven that had once been a respected Police Station.

Nothing could be heard over the roars of the flames. No help was coming. No Uncle. No Firemen. No Policemen. No heroes.

All he could do was curl up in a ball and hope that it was over soon.

...xxXxx...

In the span of a few seconds, her entire world had imploded on itself.

Everything that had really mattered to her was swept away as she watched the trails of smoke billowing up into the air.

The whole street was sectioned off by the Authorities as Fire-crews battled what remained of the fire. They had contained it for the most part to an abandoned apartment building across the street from where she stood. Not that it really mattered to Jessica anyways. She tore through the barricade like it was nothing, shrugging aside two burly men like they where rag-dolls in her mad dash to reach the Station.

The street that she remembered with fondness was gone. Wiped clean by the raging fires. A cloud of ash hung in the air. Almost no building was unscathed. Most where completely hollowed out.

But even more worrying to her where the rows of bodies. She couldn't even look at them. She didn't need to. Peter and Ben weren't there. They couldn't be. They where probably in the back of a firetruck, cracking jokes about having a barbecue. Where else would they be, after all?

She could have easily found the building with her eyes closed. Which is exactly what she wished she had done. Because all that remained of the building she remembered was a hollow shell of itself. All of the windows had been blown out. Most of the roof had caved in. And the entire floor was covered in a thick layer of grey ash.

Her heart beat in her chest as she darted through what remained of the doorway. What little that remained of the door was crushed under her heel ass eh spun around, looking for something, a sign that all was not lost. Tears welled up in her eyes as she began to lose hope. She didn't think anyone could have survived that inferno.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see several people, a mix of Firefighters and paramedics, holding back. Maybe they didn't want to disturb her, or maybe they had simply given up hope, like she just about did.

But the she saw something move ever so slightly. The movement was so minuscule that most people would have missed it entirely, but not Jessica. What remained of a desk blocked her view of it, but that was of no consequence. With one hand she sent the desk flying, uncovering the best and worst thing she'd ever see in her life.

Peter lay there, curled up in a ball. He was almost unrecognizable. All of his hair was gone, and three-quarters of his skin was covered in ungodly burns. The only reason she recognized him was a small birthmark under his chin. A birthmark which moved, ever so slightly.

" _HELP!"_ she cried, and seconds later a Firefighter and Paramedic burst inside.

"Shit, this kid's still alive!" the paramedic gasped as he waved for a nearby ambulance crew to hurry over with a stretcher. "pulse is...steady!"

"Kid dodged a bullet there," the Fireman quipped as he helped the Paramedic load Peter onto the stretcher. "few more minutes and-"

"He dodged a whole meteor," the Paramedic replied hastily as he applied a stethoscope to what remained of Peter's chest. He took one look at Jessica, and obviously surmised that she knew who Peter was, at least. "No detectable lung obstruction. That's a godsend," he said as he turned to the two people inside the Ambulance. "Adolescent male. Severe burns over his body. Get him out of here, quick!"

"Any I.D on him?" one of the attendee's replied.

"I'm his sister," Jessica snapped as she forced her way into the back of the vehicle. The man and woman inside did not seem to want to argue this point, and closed the doors behind her.

They took off like they'd been shot out of a canon. But Jessica didn't really take any notice of their speed. She was too focused on her baby brother before her. So weak. So hurt. So vulnerable. And it was all her fault. If she hadn't been so selfish, none of it this would have happened. If she hadn't snuck out earlier in the night, he'd still be soundly asleep in his bed, completely fine.

Instead he was now barely clinging to life through a combination of sheer luck and the skill of those around her. They reached the hospital in no time, and Peter was rushed out of the Ambulance. Jessica followed him for as long as she could, until they reached the operating room.

For hours on end, she paced back and forth, never leaving that hallway, despite how crowded it got during the daily rush. Surprisingly, no one tried to shoo her away. Perhaps they knew why she was there, or simply saw the dark look in her eyes and knew not to mess with her. Time lost it's effect on her. Morning came and went without her even looking at a clock. She didn't even notice her stomach growling until one of the Doctors came up to her and offered her a half-sandwich.

The same doctor explained that Peter's surgery had gone as well as it could have. They had removed any infected flesh and debris from his body, which could now heal itself naturally over time. Which would take quite a while, they had explained. There wasn't enough healthy skin to use for skin grafting, even if their insurance could cover it. She explained that plastic surgery would be an option they could consider once he was done growing, but even that wasn't a sure thing. It would require a skilled practitioner. And skilled practitioners came at a very high cost.

For the most part, however, Jessica kept nodding on and on until the woman agreed to take her to Peter, who'd been taken into a private room away from prying eyes.

When she walked into the room, however, her knees buckled out from underneath her. There, in a hospital bed, lay her little Brother. He was wrapped from head to foot in stained white bandages. She would not have recognized him at all if it wasn't for her Aunt May sitting at his side, looking like a hollow shell of herself.

Together, the two of them simply cried away their sorrows long into the night.


	9. Fool's Gambit

Kurt Wagner awoke with a start. He did not know where he was, or how he had gotten there. The last thing he remembered was passing out behind a building from blinding pain. How he came to be in such pain was an absolute mystery to him still.

He looked around for some clue as to his whereabouts. He could see plenty of medical equipment surrounding him. He had to be in some sort of hospital, or Urgent Care Centre.

But no respectable Hospital would take care of an obvious Mutant like himself. Something told him that he needed to get out of there. Without pause he pulled the needles out of his arm, and unstrapped himself from the bed.

Whoever had been taking care of him had at least had the decency to keep him fully clothed.

He crept out of the room, staying as silent as possible. Now he was in a long, metal hallway that stretched on for some distance in both directions without anywhere to hide. For any normal person, that would be a problem. But not for Kurt. He teleported himself down the hallway a distance, until he was just in front of the next doorway.

This door led into a gym of sorts, and was occupied by two men. Both where very large, wearing nothing but shorts and engaged in a bout of sparring. The taller man had long blonde hair, while the somewhat shorter one had a shorter cut. The shorter one was also scoring more direct hits on the larger man, who simply shrugged them off like they where coming from a toddler.

Kurt managed to skirt past the door without being noticed, and continued on his way. He hugged the wall, while trying to make as little noise as possible. The metal floor was cool against his bare feet as he slipped into the next hallway. This one was thankfully covered in wood panelling, much more like an elaborate mansion than an abandoned Hospital.

A small noise caught his attention. Two people where coming down the other end of the hall. He looked around for some place to hide, and spotted one. His mutation provided him with increased agility, which he used to crawl on top of a large book-case. He slipped out of sight just before the two people, a Red-Headed woman and an older man, entered his view.

"...well, I'm not sure that our financial backers would support a Mutant Support Group at this time," the old man said with a huff. "The belligerent old fools don't want to rock the boat too much. And we still need them on our side, until product sales start to rise."

"So there's nothing you can do?" the woman replied, "at all?"

"I didn't say that," the old man said quickly. "It is fairly _easy_ for money to disappear in the business world. it's a wonder Wilson Fisk hasn't gone bankrupt yet, considering how much he's reportedly 'lost'. I might be able to re-direct _some_ funds to you. Not much. Most likely less than fifty grand. Is that..." their voices trailed off as they exited his earshot. Kurt waited a moment until he allowed himself to move, fearing being discovered.

But he waited too long.

A blaring noise filled his ears the moment his feet touched the ground. He knew that they knew he'd escaped, and broke into a dead run, hoping that he'd find an exit before they caught him.

He bounded down through the halls at top speed, skirting around corners as he came to the realization he was going in circles. He tried to rectify this by only turning left, but that quickly backfired on him as he nearly ran face-first into someone wearing a full suit of red-and-yellow armour.

"Easy there," the armoured titan said as they raised their hands up, "I'm not going to-." Kurt didn't give them a chance to respond. He teleported a short distance away, towards the other end of the room and kept running. "He's in the north hallway!" the armoured individual shouted as Kurt continued to run. Ahead of him lay a set of double-doors, which he quickly opened with his shoulder, which began to scream with pain. Apparently he had a few more injuries than what he was aware of.

He pushed through it though, and sped down the hall. He just needed to get outside, where he would have infinite directions to travel in. There was no way they'd be able to find him then. Whoever 'they' where.

He skidded around a corner, only to come face to face with a man in a red-and-blue bodysuit. He sized the man up. He was about the same size as Kurt was, so Kurt felt he stood a chance at getting past him if he played his cards right.

He lunged forward, and feinted to the left. The man took the bait and moved accordingly, as Kurt pushed off with his opposite foot, launching himself in the other direction. His foot grazed the man's head, but he made it past him.

Or so Kurt thought.

Something sticky tugged on his back, and pulled him down to the ground. But Kurt recovered quickly, discovering that the man had used some sort of wrist-mounted device to shoot what looked like silly string at him.

"Easy there, buddy," the man said as he pulled Kurt in closer. "we're not going to hurt-"

"Yeah, like I believe that!" Kurt spat as he teleported himself to the door, still trying to make his escape. He got halfway there when something else grabbed him. Not the bodysuit wearing man, but some invisible force, which held him in place. He struggled against his bonds with all his might, as he felt something hot trickle against his shoulder. He could still move his head, so he looked over and saw that his bicep was bleeding.

He also saw exactly what was keeping him in place. The same red-headed woman from before walked towards him slowly, with one hand set against her temple, and the other extended out towards him.

"He's a teleporter," the man said, "so be careful."

"I know," the woman replied, as Kurt found himself unable to use his Mutant powers for some reason. He suspected that the woman was somehow holding him in place against his will. "What is your name?" the woman asked him in a polite tone.

" _Lass mich gehen, du Hure!_ _"_ (Let me go, you whore!) Kurt spat bitterly as he struggled against his invisible bonds in absolute vain. His tail flickered in anger as more people in a multitude of colours came into view.

" _Lass mich gehen, bevor ich-!_ _"_ (Let me go before I-!) Kurt growled before he was interrupted by _Captain America,_ of all people. That was enough to give Kurt some pause.

" _Beobachten Sie Ihren Ton, junger Mann. Oder sonst werde ich es für dich sehen._ _"_ (Watch your tone, young man. Or I will watch it for you.) Captain America said with a low growl, which caused Kurt to shrink back internally. When someone who commanded such respect berated you, you certainly felt it deep down. " _Sprichst du Englisch?_ _"_ (Do you speak English?)

"Yes," Kurt replied as he darted his eyes around the room. Six people in all stood around him with various expressions on their faces. "Where am I?" he asked tentatively.

"Avengers Mansion," the old man with the cane said plainly. "And to answer your next two questions. Yes, there is a New Team of Avengers, most of whom you see before you right now. And no, you are not our prisoner. We simply need to keep you here long enough to determine exactly what happened to you. Unless you would _rather_ be put out on the streets again? Where you would most certainly die in less than a week." Kurt surveyed his options before saying anything. He knew they where right. The mortality rate for Mutants was very high, unless they could gather in groups for support. But his group had disbanded some time ago, and others where hard to find.

"What exactly happened to me?" he asked, stalling for time as he tried to figure things out.

"We don't know yet," the man in the red-and-blue bodysuit said with a shrug, as he pulled his mask away, revealing a horribly scarred face. "My sister says that there's a foreign agent in your bloodstream, which knocked you out for the better part of three weeks. Hank also says that there are signs that a significant amount of blood and tissue samples where taken from you." _Well that certainly explains the multitude of injuries,_ Kurt reasoned as he came to the conclusion that he was in no shape to take care of himself at the moment. He was still not sure if he could fully trust these people yet, however.

"We'd like to take you too them," the old man said plainly, in a tone that was both friendly and commanding. "To figure out what happened to you at least Mr...?"

"Wagner," Kurt replied. If they had taken care of him for the past three weeks, he felt that they had at least earned his name. "Kurt Wagner. Now, _Fräulein_ if you could please...?" he asked, addressing the redheaded woman. She looked at the old man, who nodded, and slowly dropped Kurt to the ground.

...XxXxx...

"So where exactly did you learn German?" Pepper asked as she prepared drinks for herself and Steve, who stood on the other side of the kitchen island. "Well, not 'where' so much as when?" she corrected as she slid his across to him.

"Basic German was a part of the OSS's training regimen," Steve replied with a small shrug. "It's no secret that they wanted a blonde, white man for their Super-Soldier to 'represent' the American values," he said as he took a small sip of the drink she had made for him. "But what not a lot of people know is that they wanted us to be able to sneak into Berlin if we had to. So they forced us all to learn advanced German, to help our cover story."

"Ah," Pepper replied, as a brief portion of World War Two History popped into her mind, which contradicted something that Steve had said. "Wait," she said, "you said 'us'. But there was only one Super-Soldier that came out of the program."

"There where two-hundred 'test subjects'," Steve replied with a small smile. "One-hundred and ten of them washed out within the first month. Thirty-five more where deemed unfit for the procedure. The serum had no effect on twenty of them. Eight more died during the process." Pepper nodded, doing the math in her head and coming to a conclusion. Of course she knew the Government hadn't told the world everything about the Super-Soldier project, given how secretive they where about everyday military contracts. But if what Steve was saying was true, then she certainly had some research of her own to do.

But, looking at his expression, she also knew it was time to change the subject matter to something a little less painful.

"So...what was it like?" she asked, sitting down on a bar-stool across from him. "Adjusting to Twenty-First Century Life? I imagine it was-"

"Quite a shock, to say the least," Steve nodded a reply. He furrowed his brow as he continued. "When I woke up, there was a team of Doctors standing over me...they weren't standing for very long." Pepper leaned in closer as he continued his tale. "I grabbed my shield and ran for the exit as fast as I could...just like our friend did. Only unlike him, I got outside. That's when it all hit me." he said as he took a big gulp of his drink. "Like a god-damn freight train."

"It must have been difficult," she said as she extended a hand, covering his.

"You have no idea," he replied with a shake of his head. "I mean, I knew most of us weren't going to survive that godforsaken island. I knew that from the moment we got the briefing. I think we all did. But," he said as he glanced over to the window, out past the trees. "Just to know that... _I_ was the only survivor? Do you have _any_ idea what that feels like?"

...xxXxx...

"This shouldn't hurt _too_ much," Hank said as he slid the needle into Kurt's bicep, and injected the blue liquid inside into his body. It was an anaesthetic, combined with a revolutionary drug that Stark Industries had developed to help accelerate the body's natural healing process. "It will still take some time before you have your full mobility back, however." the two of them sat alone in the medical wing of Avengers Mansion, giving Hank a great deal of privacy with the younger man as he worked. Privacy which he felt was necessary.

"Thank you, Doctor," the young Mutant, Kurt Wagner replied as Hank pulled the thin needle out of his arm. To Hank, the young man still looked extremely nervous. Not surprising, given how he'd just woken up in a strange environment.

He reminded Hank of how he had been on his first day of University, walking into the classroom looking like he did. The day hadn't lasted long before the mobs came after him, and he'd quickly transferred to online-only courses. Of course, Hank surmised that this particular young man had never been to University, and may not have even graduated High School properly. Not that he was one to judge. Several of his friends hadn't been able to graduate either, due to their 'preexisting conditions'.

"So..." Kurt said sheepishly as he looked around. "You are all Mutants?"

"No," Hank replied with a small chuckle as he set down the syringe and picked up a tablet that showed him Kurt's vital signs. "Not all of us are Mutants. Myself, Miss Grey and Miss Lee are, however."

"' _Zen_ how do the others have powers?" Kurt asked. It was a valid question, in Hank's opinion. "I mean, ze _Iron Woman-_ "

"Iron _Man,"_ Hank corrected with a smirk, "we're going for a completely politically correct vibe here, Mr. Wagner. But as for the others, well...Captain Rogers _is_ the real deal, son. The World War Two icon himself, brought into the modern day. Then of course there's Thor... no one's really sure about whether or not to believe his stories about the mythical 'Asgard' or not. And supposedly Azari was 'chosen' by the gods to have his powers. Again, still not sure how that works out. As for the Parkers-"

"Parkers?" Kurt cut in suddenly.

"Peter and Jessica," Hank said smoothly as he continued, "they aren't quite sure why they have powers. I am actually working _with_ Peter to help better understand their genetic code."

"Jessica," Kurt nodded, "is she the red-head-?"

"No, that's Jean," Hank corrected. "Jessica's brunette, and slightly taller than Jean. Her brother-"

"He is the one who looks like a-?" Kurt began, only to be interrupted himself.

"You're better off not finishing that sentence," said Jubilee, who had just stepped inside the room with two sandwiches, and several papers that Hank had requested. "Seriously. The last guy who made fun of Peter's face got himself punched across the room and into the floor."

"He is _dat_ violent?" Kurt asked with a raised eyebrow. "I thought you where going for a 'defenders of peace' vibe?"

"We are," Jubilee replied as she set the tray down and handed Hank his papers. "and it was Jessica who did the punching. Nice tattoo, by the way," she said as she pointed to a small mark on the back of Kurt's neck. Hank hadn't taken much notice f it until now. As far as he could tell, it was just a run-of-the-mill ink pattern, and nothing special. But something seemed off about Kurt's reaction. He actively turned the back of his neck away from her sight. Beaming a smile in Hank's direction, Jubilee asked, "Hank, can I talk to you outside for a moment?"

"Sure," Hank replied, as he followed the raven-haired Asian out into the hallway. She shut the door to the examination room behind her as a very serious expression crossed her face. Something had her worried. And he intended to find out just what that was. "Is there-?" he began, only to be cut off by a raised hand.

"Have you ever heard of the Mutant Guild?" Jubilee asked plainly as she folded her arms across her chest.

"I..." Hank replied as he adjusted his glasses. "No...at least...In rumour only. I always thought that it was a myth?" From what he understood, the 'Mutant Guild' was a criminal organization run entirely by Mutants, with enough power to rival the Yakuza and the Mafia. Possibly both at the same time. If the stories where true, they had a small army at their disposal. And anyone who crossed their path was dealt with in truly horrifying ways. Which was why Hank refused to believe they could really exist.

"The mark on the back of his neck," Jubilee said with a huff. "I've seen it before. It's the same mark that one of the Guild's highest ranking members, _Remy LeBeau,_ puts on those under his service." Hank pondered for a moment. He still did not want to believe in the existence of such a horrendous group. But at the same time, a mob beating certainly explained Kurt's injuries, his reluctance to tell them what had happened, and possibly even the strange pathogens they had found in his system.

As a Doctor, and an Avenger, it was his job to investigate any and all possibilities.

"So what do you suggest we do about it?" Hank asked intently. "If this Guild exists-"

"They do," Jubilee snapped back, "and if I remember correctly, they have a warehouse on the out in Queens." A smirk cracked at her lips as she unfolded her arms and asked, "so you want to go take a look or not, Doc?"

...xxXxx...

"Are you _sure_ that you're up for this, Grandpa?" Pepper half-asked, half-pleaded as she followed Tony Stark as he sped down the hallway at a pace that was surprising for a man pushing eighty. She had trouble keeping up with him, honestly. "You've barely recovered from your heart attack as is, and all the stress from the past few weeks..." she said as she finally caught up with him.

"Pepper I will be _fine,"_ he said as he stopped and placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's only a shareholders meeting in Detroit. I will only be gone for a few hours at most. I can handle this," he said as he tried to move past her. Which Pepper would not accept.

" _I_ can go," Pepper insisted. "Or you can send someone else. _Anyone_ else! McLaren! Stevenson! Pretty much anyone from the top floor would be more than suitable." He had to chuckle. He'd had this conversation so many times with Pepper, Howard, and Maria. They had all expressed their concerns over his well-being numerous times.

It was just a shame that he had outlived two of the three.

"I am up to this," he re-assured his granddaughter. "I'm not _that_ old yet. If anything goes wrong," he said as he resumed his stroll down the hallway. "J.A.R.V.I.S. will be able to contact an ambulance in a heartbeat. And you within minutes," he said, attempting to placate her so that he could get on with his journey. "and don't go and say that you'll go with me. Because you're needed here," he said as he motioned towards the rest of the building.

The two of them stood in silence for a moment. A moment which allowed Tony to appreciate just how much the little girl he had once known had grown up. He could have sworn that it was only yesterday that he first held her in his arms. As he had held her, he had been forced to watch his son's life fall apart in mere seconds due to a series of rare complications that the Doctors could do nothing about, though not for lack of trying.

He remembered everything about Pepper growing up. He remembered being there for every birthday, for every school play. And when he could not attend, he made _sure_ to have someone record it, and have her know that he was there for her.

Of course now, Pepper wouldn't be placated by some doll from whatever city he was visiting. She needed to know that he was going to be as well taken care of as he had promised Howard in his last minutes that he would take care of her.

"Okay," Pepper nodded, "Just to Detroit? I trust you know your limits," she sighed, obviously knowing that there was no way he was going to shift an inch. On this or any subject. The both of them where so much alike. "But I'll walk you to the plane," Pepper said, not asking him so much as telling him. All he could do was smile, nod and indicate that she should walk beside him.

...xxXxx...

"So you are offering me a full time membership?" Kurt chuckled, not really believing what he was hearing, because it was too good to be true. No one offered jobs to Mutants. Unless those jobs where the kind deemed 'unfit' for 'regular' people.

"Yeah, we are," Jessica Parker replied as she wrapped medical tape around the wound on his forearm. "Stark offered it to everyone who was...you know... _there,"_ she said with a small smirk, as Kurt nodded. No way he could forget fighting off an Alien invasion so quickly. It was probably one of the proudest moments of his life. "So it's only fair to offer it to you as well."

"Huh," he nodded, "and it comes with money?"

"Some," Jessica replied with a shrug. "Mostly based off of the merchandise Tony is having made. We each get a cut of the sales related to us. Royalties, basically." Kurt nodded absentmindedly as he did a one-over of the brunette woman in front of him. She was taller than him by an inch at least, and possessed coiled muscles hidden beneath a deceptively thin frame. Something about her personality made him feel at ease, but simultaneously told him that she was someone who he should not cross. But maybe that was just from what he had already been told about her.

"I must admit," Kurt said as he gazed over at an oil painting of the _original_ Avengers team. It certainly was a daunting prospect, replacing such iconic heroes. "I am a little overwhelmed..."

"Well so am I," Jessica said as she stood beside him and looked up at the same painting. "Really. I mean," she said as she folded her arms across her chest. "I'm a nurse. Hank and Jean are teachers. About half of us aren't really crime-fighters. But we're still here, doing what we can."

"But why?" Kurt replied as he tore his eyes off the painting. "Why should _I_ help people? What have people ever done for me?"

"Aside from take you in and treat your injuries while you where out cold?" Jessica replied with a raised eyebrow. Kurt shrank back slightly out of embarrassment. He had walked straight into that remark. "i think people should help others selflessly, so that there's a greater chance that someone will be there when they need it most."

"And where have those people been all of my life?" Kurt asked.

"Asking the same question you are, probably," was her reply, which gave Kurt some things to think about. He did not have long, however, before they where interrupted by a new arrival. Peter Parker entered the room from the opposite end, with his eyes darting around rapidly. It was almost as if he was looking for something.

"What's up?" Jessica asked plainly, getting his attention right away.

"Did you see Jubilee leave?" he asked, shifting his feet. "I can't seem to find her anywhere."

"Of course _you'd_ be the first to notice she's gone," Jessica replied with a slight chuckle under her breath.

"Hank's gone as well," Peter added in, with a small hint of desperation.

"Uh-huh," Jessica said, with a smile still cracking at her lips. "Don't go and change the subject, _lover-boy._ Have you gathered up the courage to ask her out yet?" At this, Peter blushed profusely as he averted his gaze. To Kurt, this was a telltale sign of embarrassment, and he could tell that Jessica was going to keep prodding until she got the desired reaction.

"I'll ask her out," Peter came back strongly, "the moment when miss 'gets-all-dopey-eyed-when-looking-at-Cap' does," he said with an air of fake smugness. Thankfully, the awkwardness in the air was soon broken by a computerized voice speaking over the intercom system.

" _Excuse me, Avengers. I am picking up a distress signal from an Avengers i.d. card out in Queens. I suggest you go investigate."_

...xxXxx...

The city was surprisingly quiet at night. Hank hadn't quite expected that. He always remembered the city as being extremely loud and obnoxious. Instead all that surrounded by serenity. Or at least a semblance of it.

The wind whipped at his face as he stood at the edge of the building, watching the warehouse on the other side of the street. So far he'd seen about twenty-five people walk in and out of the building. About one-quarter of them where most definitely Mutants, and he was fairly certain that the rest where as well, he just couldn't be sure. The location was certainly fitting, as they where surrounded by homeless people. He'd wanted to send them off to a shelter, by Jubilee had stopped him.

"They're lookouts," she'd told him, "whoever runs this place probably pays them with either a bed, protection, food or money. Maybe all of the above for the ones who go above and beyond." Not for the first time, Hank was left wondering just how she knew so much about the Mutant Underworld. _Well it's obvious how she knows,_ he told himself, _I just don't want to know just how much she knows._ Now, out of the corner of his eye, he watched as she scanned the area with a pair of high-tech binoculars that she'd apparently just 'found lying on a table'.

"There," Jubilee said as she pointed, and handed Hank the binoculars. "North side. Four guys bringing in carts full of some blue liquid. Doesn't look like grape juice to me."

"No it does not," Hank agreed as he watched the men unload more of the stuff from a truck. If his interests had not been piqued before, there where now. They needed to find out what was going on inside that building. And sooner was better than later.

But he wasn't sure that running in headfirst was the best solution. Unlike Jubilee did. Before he could say or do anything, the lithe woman had already scrambled down the side of the building, and made for cover beside some garbage bins. Hank certainly had to give her some credit for her stealth. He never would have made it as far as she had already. He watched as she expertly zig-zagged between cover, avoiding detection.

In no time at all, she slipped out of view, and into the building itself. But Hank had no time to follow her, as he soon found himself being picked up, and tossed to the ground by a large man made entirely out of metal.

...xxXxx...

Jubilee sucked in a deep breath as she slipped through an open door, keeping herself low to the ground, out of sight. She could vaguely hear voices coming from not far off, but didn't pay them much mind. They weren't discussing anything important, just the score of the football game.

She marvelled at just how _easy_ it was for her to sneak around like she was. She hadn't done anything so extreme in a long time, aside from occasionally sneaking off-campus for some late-night fun.

She crouched low, behind a large wooden crate and perked her ears, hoping to hear something incriminating.

"Yeah the boss has doubled-down on security," someone said as they sauntered past. "Ever since that guy took over the train-yard. I think Mark's even beginning to piss his pants a little."

"Don't blame him," someone else replied. "I mean, you saw how quick he strong-armed Tombstone's goons out of there. Some say a few of them aren't right in the head no more..."

"An' others don't have a head anymore," a third voice, this one a woman, added in as the three of them walked out of her earshot. And since she didn't hear or see anyone, she decided to creep out from cover for just a moment, in order to get a better look around.

If she hadn't seen the outside of the building, she would have had trouble believing that she was inside a warehouse.

The walls where plastered with a plethora of different charts, formulas and statistics. Stuff which was way too advanced for her to even think about trying to decipher on her own. So she activated the recording device that Tony Stark had built into her suit, so that the egg-heads could try and figure out what she was seeing.

Even though ninety-nine percent of the information went straight over her head, she was able to understand small parts of it. There was a lot of money involved. Millions, if her math was right. And there was stuff about a few weapons shipments. Though she wasn't quite sure what type of weapons where being shipped.

She had almost completed her sweep of the room when there was a noise behind her. She spun around, and three burly men stood in the doorway. All of them looked straight at her, and she let loose a string of curses.

"Grab 'er!" one of them said, as they all charged forward. They where all bigger than she was. But fortunately, she was faster and more agile. She shot fireworks into their eyes as she dived to the side, out of their way as they stumbled to a halt, unable to see for the moment.

Pressing her advantage, Jubilee grabbed a thin, steel pipe as long as she was tall and smacked it against their bodies in a rapid flurry of movement. She struck them in the arms, the chest, the legs and stomach until all three fell to the ground, groaning in pain.

"Stop." A cold chill ran down her spine. That voice resounded in the deep recesses of her mind. It brought back _horrible_ memories that she had buried a long time ago. All the while simultaneously freezing her muscles in place. Cold sweat dripped down her neck as the man stepped into her field of view.

Remy LeBeau. Leader of one of the most powerful Mutant organizations in the world. A slimy dirt-ball who connived his way to the top of the pecking order. She wanted nothing more than to blast him into and through the nearest wall.

Unfortunately, his Mutant power was one of persuasion. He could make anyone do anything he wanted, so long as they possessed the Mutant Gene.

"Ah, _Mon_ _chere,"_ Remy said in a smarmy tone as he looked her over. "Look how well you 'ave grown!" As he walked, he flipped a deck of cards through his fingers. He loved to play with his food, before making them suffer. His long brown trench-coat flapped with a slight breeze. Nothing had changed about him. "'ow long has it been?"

"Piss the fuck off," she spat back, as the two of them had a stare-down.

" _Ahh,_ there is the little firecracker I remember," Remy smirked as he bent down to be level with her. His yellow eyes gleamed with excitement as he continued, "I guess I should be asking for your autograph, no?" he taunted as the urge to blast his smug smile right off his face grew. Her entire body hummed with energy buildup, unable to find release until either he moved away, or gave her permission to act on her own free will.

And he was showing no signs of doing either.

"Maybe some other time, _chere,"_ Remy smiled as he patted her cheek lightly. "Some time for some... _other_ fun. But now, I 'ave some business to attend to before your friends show up." he said as he turned away, as she truly began to fume with anger. Her breath became hot and ragged as her hands, which where balled into fists, simmered with multicoloured energy as she waited for the effects of Remy's influence to wear off. Tears rolled down her cheeks as it actually became _painful_ for her to hold it all in.

...xxXxx...

"And you're absolutely sure it's-?" Steve snapped as the Quinjet came around in a tight arc over the series of warehouses. Behind him the entire Avengers Roster, including newcomer Kurt Wagner, sat in the expanded interior of the craft, waiting for them to land.

" _My G.P.S. tracking is accurate to a distance of two feet, Captain Rogers,"_ the Avengers A.I companion, J.A.R.V.I.S. replied in a monotone voice as a way-point marker appeared on Steve's heads-up display, which had been integrated into his field uniform, thanks to all of the technology that Stark had stuffed it with. Most of the features he had yet to figure out fully, but he could certainly follow directions.

"Okay," Steve hummed as he formed a battle-plan in his mind. He played out the strengths of each team-member in his head, and mentally split them into three teams. "Thor, Pepper, Jessica, you are our air cover. Create a perimeter and enforce it as best you can. Turn away any civilians you see approaching, and detain anyone trying to leave the area," he said as he swung the craft into the largest clearing. Already he could see people attempting to flee in trucks. With the push of a button, he opened the ramp, allowing those three to exit in quick succession.

Their sudden arrival sparked a panic in the fleeing criminals. Several vehicles crashed as Pepper slashed a beam of pure energy across the pavement, cutting off their escape.

"Jean, Azari, Kurt, Ground Team One. Cover the exits. Use force if necessary," he continued, as the aforementioned Avengers pilled out and broke into a dead run. "You and me," he said as he finally got out of his seat, and addressed Peter Parker directly. "We-"

"Looking for Jubes and Hank," the younger man said with a slight salute as he pulled his mask over his face.

"And whoever is in charge here," Steve added in as the two of them exited the craft via the ramp. Outside was already a somewhat intense melee. The fleeing criminals where doing their best to get past the line that the Avengers Ground Team had formed. Jean Grey seemed to have formed a mental 'wall' of sorts with her telepathy. Many of the potential convicts ran head-first into that wall, only to be knocked straight on their asses.

Those that did not, where quickly faced with the seemingly untouchable duo of Azari and Kurt, whose mobility offered them a distinct advantage. Azari was faster with his punches and kicks, but Kurt could attack from any angle.

And the few stragglers that evaded even them where soon met with a circle of lasers, lightning and fists. Although the Avengers lacked the experience fighting as a cohesive unit, their teamwork was something to be admired. Each played to his or her strengths perfectly, and covered for the weaknesses of the others.

Though the criminal mob was an ugly thing to look at, they where highly disorganized. Under proper leadership they may have been able to mount a proper counter-attack against the team, given the firepower they seemed to possess. Around ninety percent of them seemed to be Mutants with weak to moderate powers. But they where untrained, and fighting only to escape.

Steve had every intention of cutting a path straight through the carnage, but apparently his partner had other ideas. Steve felt himself being grabbed between his shoulder blades and catapulted high into the air. A feeling which he did not like very much.

"Sorry, Cap," Peter quipped as he landed with a flip, and stuck to the side of a wall. "Didn't mean to throw you so hard. I stuck the takeoff a little," he rambled as he followed Steve around the corner to the source of the signal.

There, in the centre courtyard of the facility, two figures fought. One was a seven-foot tall slab of metallic muscle. While the other was a ball of blue fur that was being sent flying by a massive punch to the gut.

Hank landed against the wall on the other side of the Courtyard, but got to his feet quickly. Because the metal man was entirely focused on the Mutant Avenger, Steve was able to run up in his blind-spot for a quick surprise attack that would knock him out in an instant.

Or so he thought. His vibranium shield slammed against the back of the metal-man's head, and rang like a drum. His enemy shuddered momentarily, slightly stunned by the blow. But in a few seconds the effect wore off, and was replaced by simmering rage.

The colossal giant swung his fist around in a wide, but sloppy arc that Steve had little trouble dodging. Two more punches followed, of equal speed. This allowed Steve, a veteran martial artist, to size up his opponent quickly. Obviously, this man relied on his size, strength and durability to win him a fight, and had therefore disregarded any sort of formal training, or basic technique.

A fatal flaw that Steve intended to exploit. He studied how the metal man moved his body, which allowed him to better anticipate how and when he would attack. He used this to plan a series of counter-attacks, none of which where meant to do any harm. They where his way of judging the man's durability. Because though the man was a criminal, Steve did not intend to treat him the same way he had the Nazi's back during the war. He wanted to see just how hard he had to hit in order to get a reaction.

However, he got even less of a reaction than he did from the first blow. And his momentary distraction cost him the precious few seconds he would have needed to avoid a massive fist flying into his gut.

Before he knew it, Steve was rolling across the concrete, tasting blood in his mouth. He tried to get to his feet, but the colossal giant stepped on his stomach before he could rise.

"This is the mighty Captain America?" the metal colossus sneered as he reached down, and picked Steve up like a rag-doll. "Not so mighty I thin-" _Thiwp! Thwip! Thwip!_ All of a sudden, three very large globs of white goo smacked into the man's face and fists. His jaw was now sealed shut and his right hand was glued to his shoulder.

And no matter how hard he tried, he could not free himself. Good enough for Steve, who turned just long enough to give Peter an acknowledging salute, thanking him for the quick save.

"You know," Steve quipped as he swung both of his legs underneath the man' sweeping his feet out from underneath him. He crawled on top of him, and pulled out a pair of power-suppressing handcuffs on the man as he continued, "You shouldn't gloat until-" He was cut off by a massive _BOOM_ coming from the warehouse.

...xxXxx...

Peter shifted his focus towards the centre of the explosion. The first thing he noticed was the distinct lack of explosive elements. No dynamite, no gunpowder, no gas. And definitely no fire. Which was what made a thousand formulas fly through his mind in an instant as he sprinted into the building.

The source of the explosion had to have been a mutant. There was no questioning that. And based off of the kinds of powers he had seen outside, he felt he knew exactly _which_ Mutant caused the explosion. All the proof he needed was in the largest room in the warehouse.

A room which had all four walls cracked. All the windows where smashed open. Papers had flown everywhere. A large wooden desk had been split in two, and now lay embedded inside the exposed drywall.

In the centre of the room, Jubilee knelt with clear exhaustion. As he approached, her laboured breathing became very apparent to him. He quickly surmised that _she_ had been the source of the explosion. Because otherwise she would have been seriously injured, if not dead from the shock-wave alone. And her exhaustion was most likely due to an overexertion of her powers.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he put hand on her shoulder. She jerked her head around, almost as if she hadn't noticed him until then.

"Yeah..." she said, after a too-long pause. Even through two layers of bulletproof fabric, he could feel the damp sweat permeating through her clothing. "Yes...just...need a moment..."

"What does the other guy look like?" he quipped as he helped her to her feet.

"Worse than I do..." she replied weakly as she stood under her own power.

"Most people do," Peter said, not thinking before speaking. Thankfully, it didn't look like she had heard him. Or if she did, she didn't indicate it. She was to intent on stumbling towards the exit. Possibly after someone or something. He followed her closely, in case she stumbled again.

"Found the creep in charge," Jubilee muttered as she quickened her pace. "He got away...but he went this way. That's where all the cars are," she said as they approached a set of thick double-doors.

"He won't get far," Peter assured her. "We've got the place surrounded. Most of the people have given up or been knocked out by now."

Jubilee looked back at him with a skeptical look as she ran a hand through her sweat-drenched hair. "This bastard is slippery," she said with a huff, "we're gonna need to get the drop on him."

He looked her over for a moment. There was something she wasn't telling him about all of this. Like why and how she knew about this specific location. But those where questions for another time. After all, he had some secrets he hadn't been willing to share with people until recently, so he afforded her that courtesy for the time being.

"Should we wait for backup?" Peter asked.

"No time," Jubilee replied with a small huff as she grasped the door's handle. "On three. One. Two. Three!" she hauled the door open and both of them burst inwards. Immediately Peter swung high into the air, and landed on the ceiling before getting a clear look at the room, which was more of a garage with a large, open exit.

Two cars where running and ready to go, with about four people standing just outside them, waiting to leave. Peter wasn't about to let that happen. With a flick of his wrist, the exit was covered in a large, sticky web, preventing either of the cars from leaving.

"You are a persistent one, _chere,"_ a man in a long trench-coat sneered, "I would-"

"Shut up!" Jubilee roared as twin streams of multicoloured light shot out of her hands, towards them man. Acting fast, Peter shot a series of web-balls at those below him, ensnaring two of them. The man in the trench coat rolled out of the way, as did a man in a white lab-coat.

"John, do it," the man in the trench-coat said to his companion, who nodded. The lab-coat wearing man then produced a syringe from a pocket. Before either Peter or Jubilee could properly react, the man stuck it into his arm, and emptied the contents into his system. He then fell tot he floor as Peter landed beside him, and began to convulse.

"Shit..." Peter muttered as the man's violent spasms threatened to send him reeling.

He did jump back, however, as the man's skin began to change colour, and he grew in size. The clothes on his back ripped and tore open as thick slabs of purple muscle swelled all along the former man's body. He tripled in size within minutes, dwarfing Peter, who leaped back as the now monstrous figure _tore_ open a hole in the wall.

The two heroes followed him out. And their confusion was met tenfold by the rest of the team, who stared in awe at the towering giant.

All except Thor, who grinned gleefully.

" _Finally!"_ he roared as the air cackled with intense lightning. " _A foe worthy of the son of Odin!"_ And Peter got to watch in awe as Thor battled the titanic being head-on with a flurry of Lightning and Thunder. Thor was strong and fast, but his opponent was though enough to shrug off his strikes, and only stumble back slightly.

However, it was the stumbling that was the problem. Thor was driving him away from the warehouse, and towards a populated area, where people where already gathering to watch them in action. So they had to do something.

"Thor, Stop!" Steve barked hoarsely, "Avengers, corral that thing! Keep it away from those people!" The thunder-god did as he was ordered. To the best of his ability, at least. The monstrous man was taking swings at whatever he could, and Thor was forced to bat away his hands with his hammer.

Together, the Avengers encircled the behemoth, and slowly drew it back into the docks.

"Keep him still!" Jean snapped as she pressed a finger to her temple. "I can... _uggg..._ put him to sleep!" she said, looking so strained that she threatened to pass out right there. "Just need time!"

"You heard her team!" Steve roared, "slow that thing down! Thor!" he continued as they encircled the beast once more. "ease up on the lightning! Hammer only! Jess, keep it stunned! Peter, tie him down!"

"Aye, Cap!" Peter remarked as he did as he was told. He leaped from building to building, spinning lines of webbing as he went. He expertly anchored the monstrous man's hands and feet to the concrete as his fellow Avengers went to work keeping him distracted, and as motionless as possible.

He watched as Steve rushed forward, with his shield held out in front of him like a battering ram. With it, he struck the creature's kneecap, sending it tumbling backwards a few steps. Fortunately Peter's webs kept it in place long enough for it to Jean's trick to work. Unfortunately, Steve was directly in the way _of_ the monstrous man as he began to fall forward. He was only saved at the last second by Jessica, who swooped in at the last second to save him from being crushed.

She brought him to a safe landing not far from where Peter stood, and set him down as several black trucks raced onto the scene. About a hundred men poured out and rushed towards the downed man, completely ignoring the Avengers as one of them stuck a large needle into his side.

Trusting that these government officials could handle the situation at hand, the Avengers ambled their way towards the Quinjet, wanting to avoid a session with the press. However, a single black S.U.V pulled out in front of them, partially blocking their 'escape'. Not enough to be an actual obstacle, but enough to be a clear statement that said 'I want to talk to you'.

Out of the van stepped four men in pitch-black suits. Made out of some high-tech Kevlar, no doubt. Three of them formed a semi-circle perimeter, guarding the final man's back as he approached the team. The final man was the shortest out of all of them, being just a little bit shorter than Jubilee was. To Peter, he looked more like he was supposed to be coaching a pee-wee baseball game, not a team of highly trained government operatives.

"Hello again, Avengers," the man said warmly as he walked up to them.

"Agent Coulson," Steve replied coolly, stepping in as the spokesperson for the whole team. "I take it you are the one in charge of these men?"

"I am," Agent Coulson replied smoothly. "Rest assured that we will have him placed in the best care we can provide, and we will work diligently to ensure that he remains healthy." this seemed to be directed mainly at the Mutant Avengers, who he was obviously trying to placate.

"Hmm," Steve nodded as he cast a glance towards the rest of the team. "I think I'll want to take a tour of this 'facility' of yours eventually." Coulson exchanged a small look with one of his men, who gave a small nod and turned away as he retrieved a small handheld device.

"I think that can be arranged," Coulson said plainly. "We will, after all, need to discuss our uh... _working_ relationship in further detail. I'll have someone contact you with details."

"We'll be waiting," said Jean as the tension in the air ceased, and the two groups parted ways.

The Avengers made their way back to the Quinjet, slumping into their seats and tending to injuries received during the fight. Thankfully the worst injury seemed to be Hank's dislocated right shoulder. But that was soon set into place by Jessica with a mere twist of her wrist. Within minutes the jet had taken off, with J.A.R.V.I.S. at the controls, allowing the rest of the team to sit back and relax.

It did not take long for them to reach the Mansion in the jet. In just under ten minutes they where already walking through the halls, once more going their separate ways. Though, through some strange coincidence Peter found himself trailing behind Jessica and Steve, and had Jubilee walking just behind him.

Which meant he got a front-row seat to Jessica's somewhat expected, yet still diabolical plan.

"Say Steve," she said innocently enough as she brushed her hand against the man's shoulder. "I've got some free time tomorrow, after my shift at the Hospital." Peter watched as she gave a long, dramatic pause. "I was wondering if you'd be interested in giving me a _personal_ tour of that Captain America exhibit at the Museum?" Her overt demeanour clearly caught Steve off-guard, as he stood still for a moment, blinking in confusion.

"Uhh..." the Super-Soldier blurted, "uhh...okay...? Yes, sure. What time?"

"Good!" Jessica grinned intently, "I'm done at _Noon_ tomorrow," she said before turning to Peter and Jubilee. The latter of whom was almost as stunned as Steve was. Peter on the other hand, felt his stomach begin to churn. He knew exactly what his sister was about to say before she said it. "Why don't you two tag along? We'll make it a _double-date!"_

...xxXxx...

Tony Stark leaned heavily on his cane as he walked through the heavy double-doors. The doors, he knew, where made of pure vibranium, and completely indestructible through any common means. Though that did little to ease his worries as he crossed the length of the room, towards a table at which several other figures sat, shrouded in shadows.

All around him, hundreds of faces could be seen. Most of whom he knew, or at least recognized to a degree. But not those at the centre table. They, like him, wore special mesh coverings that filtered out all recognizable features. For all he knew, Pepper could be sitting at that table and he would not recognize her, or vice-versa. The only thing he knew about them was their designated numeric titles.

"Greetings, _Four,"_ _Six_ , the only female of the group said as Tony sat down. "Pleasant journey?"

"Fairly, _Six,_ " Tony replied, as both _Five_ and _Three_ ceased their internal conversation and greeted him with welcoming nods. "Any news? Or is this just a routine meeting?"

"Far from routine, I'm afraid," _Five_ said gravely. Out of all of them, _Five_ had the most distinct silhouette, as he was confined to a wheelchair. Though he did not outright state it, Tony was actually fairly sure who _Five_ really was. "We are here to discuss some _recent_ developments," he said as a blue-tinged hologram appeared in the centre of the table. On it several screens showed the Avengers in action.

"I believe these new Avengers may be the answer we have been looking for," _Six_ said as she leaned in slightly, expanding one of the screens, which was a still shot of Jessica Parker striking one of the Alien invaders.

"I have my doubts," said _Two,_ his voice cutting through the hall like a hot knife through butter. "The last Avengers did not fare so well." Tony bristled at his words, and knew that in his youth, he would have attacked the man then and there for such an insolent comment. Now, however, he doubted his own strength, and decided to attempt to beat _Two_ at his own game. Politics.

"They have more firepower than the previous iteration ever did," _Five_ replied calmly. His support further confirmed Tony's suspicions about his identity. "And the benefit of experienced leadership. Though..."

"Though time is our enemy," _Three_ said, speaking gravely as he waved a hand through the air. "Because, my friends, the timetable has moved up considerably. We may have as little as six months."

"You _assured_ us five years!" _Two_ growled bitterly.

"And at the time, that was so," _Three_ replied calmly. "But things have changed. I sense that there is a great power working against me. Against _us._ We cannot delay any longer. Because in six months time...The end of the world will be upon us."

 **A/N: Next Chapter: A double-date! The Brotherhood returns! And meet May Parker!**


	10. Brotherhood Brawl

Steve Rogers, a renowned War Veteran and National Icon, was more nervous than he had ever been before in his life.

More nervous than when he had helped storm the Beaches of Normandy. More nervous than when he had first gone into the Recruitment Office. More Nervous than when he had been preparing for his transformation into _Captain America._

He couldn't understand it. He was a soldier, trained to run headfirst into live fire, to jump on a grenade, or fall out of an airplane. But approaching the Nurse's station at the Hospital was unlike any of those. He couldn't just go and punch his way out of this situation. He had to swallow his nerves and say "Excuse me, miss? I'm looking for Jes…. _Dr._ Jessica Parker?"

The receptionist did not look up from her computer screen, as her fingers danced across the keyboard. An annoyed scowl crossed her face as she rolled her eyes.

"I'm sorry _sir,"_ she said absentmindedly, with a slight roll of her eyes. "But as I'm sure you are aware, Dr. Parker is a _unique_ employee here. I can't allow her other job to interfere with the safety and well-being of our patients. If you wish to attempt to set up a one-on-one meeting with her, you can find her Avengers email on their social Media page…."

Steve was unsure of how to continue. On one hand, he had come to expect people to recognize him on sight, and just do whatever he asked. But on the other, he hated the constant adoration. Nearly every day there was a line of people waiting outside his small apartment, wanting either pictures or autographs. The building's security did their best, but they seemed to be woefully unprepared. So much so that Steve was considering moving somewhere else, and using a different name. He was sure that he could ask Tony Stark, or the US Government for help with that.

"I understand that," Steve said cautiously, "but-"

"I'm sorry sir," the receptionist replied coldly, still not looking up from her computer. "But rules are rules. Now, can you please move aside? There are _actual_ patients that need attending-"

"Hey Karen," a familiar voice from behind Steve said. He turned to see Peter Parker doing his best to hide a snickering smile from the receptionist, who had now turned a beet-red color from sheer embarrassment. "Is Jess in?" he asked.

I..." the receptionist muttered, as she quickly moved to put out a call for Jessica, without saying too much to anyone. Now relieved of the awkward conversation, Steve was now free to turn around and step back beside Peter. Looking just a little down the hall, he could also see Jubilee propped up against the wall, hiding in between a pillar and a vending machine. She looked like she was just as nervous and out of place as he was.

Which of course led Steve to wonder why exactly Jessica had insisted that the four of them all go together. They where going to a _Captain America_ exhibit at the Museum of Natural History, so it did make sense that she'd want him there, for a more personal tour. And with Peter being her brother, of course she'd invite him along. He seemed like the type that would get the most enjoyment out of a museum, after all. _Heck, he probably knows as much about this stuff as I do,_ Steve reasoned, which led him to wonder why Jessica would bring the _two_ of them, plus the absent-minded Jubilee, who probably didn't much care for the exhibit, along.

"You're on a first-name basis with the receptionist?" Jubilee lobbed at Peter with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm on a first-name basis with three-quarters of the staff," Peter replied casually as both he and Steve took up a spot on the wall not far from where she was.

"So you're saying you get around?" she quipped.

"Yes," Peter smirked, "I'm a complete man-whore. Through-and-through." They both laughed, and Steve made a mental note to search for the exact definition of ' _man-whore',_ because it clearly didn't mean what he thought it did. "No," he shrugged, "I've pretty much been in here at least once a month since I was…. _ten,"_ he said, with only the slightest, uncomfortable pause. Filling in the blanks all by himself, Steve decided to steer the conversation away from where it was going before things got too awkward.

"It's so weird being back in a hospital," Steve said to no one in particular as he looked around. "Haven't been in one since I woke up from my..."

"Long winter's nap?" Peter cut in jokingly. A slight giggle from Jubilee was the only reaction he got.

"….long sleep," Steve continued with determination. "That was weird. Waking up...still thinking it was nineteen-forty-five…." he said, recalling the state of pure confusion he had been in. he'd beaten guards senseless in his mad dash to escape, only to be hit with a hard dose of reality once he got outside. "Though I have to admit, there are some nice improvements in the twenty-first century. Food's a lot better. Internet. Lots more music," he said as Jessica approached from down the hall. Her beaming smile seemed to light up the whole room.

"Steve Rogers," the brunette Avenger chuckled as she came to a stop, "world's oldest hipster."

Steve took a moment to drink in her sight. She wore an old pair of blue jeans, which were beginning to show their age. Covering her scrub-top was a sleek black leather jacket, and she held a large handbag over one shoulder. Something about her made his heart skip a beat or two. With nothing but a confident stride, she took the lead of their little group and began to lead them out of the Hospital's winding halls. From the reactions that she got from passing Doctors and Patients, it seemed as though she was very well-liked by all. A few times they where forced to stop, as a passerby had a question or two for her. And although Jessica was more than keen to respond, she was always quick to end conversations and keep moving.

"What's the rush?" Jubilee asked as they darted through the main entrance. "I thought you said the exhibit doesn't close 'till seven. And that they'd probably let us stay because…?"

"Well," Jessica replied as she glanced over her shoulder, looking past the other three for some reason. "I uh….let's just say that um….. you weren't the only ones asking for me, okay?"

"we heard," Steve said. "Apparently you've got a few admirers who like to hang around?"

"You heard about that?" Jessica groaned as they turned around a corner, narrowly avoiding a passerby on a bicycle. " _Ugh._ It's getting unbearable. Every day security's been escorting out one or two 'fans'. Most of whom want a picture. Or an autograph. Those I can handle. It's the people who want a _date_ that I can't stand." A sentiment which Steve understood. Both in the modern day, and back in the Forties, he had been a target for women ever since the Super-Soldier program. It had made trying to have a relationship a living hell. He could only imagine that she felt the same. If not worse.

"But that's not who you're talking about, is it?" Peter said as they passed by a series of small boutiques.

"Nope," Jessica said quickly. "A little bird tipped me off a few minutes before you arrived. Thankfully she came in the back way like normal. Otherwise..."

"We'd have had a big, ugly scene?" Peter quipped.

"Yep," Jessica replied, looking over her shoulder briefly. It was almost as if she was afraid they where being followed by someone. He was definitely out of the loop in their conversation, as was Jubilee, who gave Steve a look that told him that she was just as confused as he was. But he shoved that thought into the back of his mind as they finally came into view of the Museum.

...xxXxx…

"That's all of it?" Jean questioned as she watched Kurt and Thor bring in the first, second and last cardboard boxes from the former's apartment. She'd known that the newest Avenger didn't have much, but she'd expected more than what they had. "Or is there a second c-?" She got her answer when Kurt disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke without a word.

"His abode twas ransacked," Thor said solemnly as he set down the box he was carrying. "Windows smashed. Pictures torn. Bed set aflame. He has incurred some wrath upon him, it seems." She doubted that very much. Kurt didn't seem like the type who would easily piss people off, with his personality. No, it was simply because of the circumstances of his birth. She'd seen it a thousand times before, after all. Mutant powers could literally develop overnight in some cases. Something which led children being tucked into bed one night, and thrown out of the house unceremoniously the next morning because they had grown a tail, wings or horns.

"Just for being born," Jean replied with a sad shrug, as a thought came to her. Something that she could do to help out a bit. "Could you….take me back there?" she asked tentatively. Thor turned on a dime, with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" Thor replied, obviously unsure if he'd heard her right. "Why would thou-?"

"Lets just say I've seen enough bullshit," Jean replied with a heavy sigh. She had seen enough over the years and this was the tipping point. She'd come across too many children with slashed wrists, empty bottles of sleeping pills and ropes around their necks. She didn't want to see another Mutant go through that again, if there was something she could do about it. And she could do something now, she had the ability to do some good in the world now as an Avenger. "Can you help or not?" she asked directly.

"Aye," the Asgardian nodded, "I can. But it would do no good," he said flatly, crossing his arms as he spoke. "There t'was nothing left. And no sign of whomever-"

"I'm sure there's something I can find," Jean said, cutting him off with a haughty tone. "I'll just be a few minutes. Then we can go." Without another word she turned and walked off down the long hallway that wound through the Mansion. Over the past month she'd grown accustomed to the many rooms it held, and had no difficulty finding her way through them.

As she walked she briefly considered calling Jubilee, to see if she might want to help. Her more _intimate_ knowledge of Mutant/criminal relations would certainly be helpful. But she stopped herself before she pulled out her phone. Jean, Charles Xavier and Jubilee herself had all worked to hard to help her put that life behind her. Plus she was sure there where other things she'd rather be doing.

Jean took a quick left, into the Avengers Armory. There, on a specially-designed hanger rested her 'Miss Marvel' attire. A multi-layered bodysuit comprised of several high-strength materials that could supposedly withstand automatic weapon fire. Something which she wasn't too keen to try out just yet.

She eyed the costume with a wry grin. Already it had gone through several re-designs, courtesy of Jubilee's fashion designer side. Two discarded incarnations, one which included a yellow face-mask, lay off to the side. The changes had clearly annoyed Tony Stark, because it meant that all of the memorabilia he'd had made needed to be changed. But in Jean's mind, it looked better now than it had before.

The other Avenger's uniforms where similarly displayed around the room, along with a row of mannequins off to one side displaying each uniform as if it was being worn by the one it was designed for.

Without much effort she slipped the outfit on, and threw a long jacket on over-top of it, to cover herself better. Because while she wasn't afraid to be seen in the outfit, she didn't want people staring at her the entire time they where making their way to their destination. She was about to head out the door when she heard movement beside her.

She turned around to see Azari standing there, with a half-cocked grin across his face. A small part of her wanted to wipe the smug look off of his face right then and there. She certainly didn't need telepathy to know what was on his mind half the time. At the very least, he'd become a little less annoying over the past few weeks. To the point of being tolerable.

"Going out?" the Wakandan Prince asked pointedly.

"I am," she replied, when a thought came to her. A way to maybe permanently change the young man's outlook on life. "And you're coming with us," she said firmly, leaving absolutely no room for argument.

...xxXxx…

 _Ka-Smack!_

Wanda Maximoff hit the floor with a slap, rolling with her momentum briefly before she could stop herself. She let out a small groan as she eyed the one who had thrown her, Elizabeth Braddock, her Dad's left hand woman, with envy.

Elizabeth, or 'Betsy' as she preferred to be called, was the exact embodiment of her Father's ideals. A well-built military woman who was straight to the point. Everything about her said efficiency and purpose, from the tight-fitting yet maneuverable clothing to her short-cut hair to the handgun and holster she'd set aside before participating in their training session.

Betsy was one of the most experienced hand-to-hand experts in her father's employ. She'd apparently spent several years working with various government black-ops divisions, until she'd joined up with his unit. Whenever she'd been asked how many people she'd killed in the line of duty, she'd simply replied 'more than you could ever imagine.'

"Get up," Betsy half-snarled as Wanda tried to ignore the throbbing in her left shoulder. "If I'd had a knife, there would be no way you would be able to get up from that. You need to guard both sides equally."

"Okay," Wanda breathed as she assumed an unsteady fighting pose, which Betsy had taught her not too long ago. No sooner had she done so, Betsy became a blur of motion, spinning her whole body through the air like a deadly Ballerina. Wanda went with her first gut instinct, and ducked underneath.

It was too bad that that was exactly what Betsy expected her to do. A fact which Wanda learned after having her solar plexus make contact with Betsy's foot. She rolled across the floor, stopping just short of the wall as she heard heavy footsteps approaching. She only managed to rise to her knees before her Father entered the room.

Eric Lensherr, her Father, cut an imposing figure. His 6'' frame dominated the room, which was only enhanced by the dark brown body-armor he had taken to wearing at all times. His eyes glazed over Wanda briefly, assessing her without a word before his gaze flickered over to his second-in-command.

"Your assessment of Wanda's capabilities?" he said, with his voice completely devoid of any and all emotion. Just as it always was.

"Your Daughter has excellent intuition," Betsy quickly snapped as she brought herself to a rigid state. "With proper training, and given enough time, I can see her becoming a very useful field asset." Wanda briefly recoiled at the idea of being referred to as a 'field asset'. However, hearing the slight praise from Betsy was heartening. It almost made up for her clearly bruised ribs.

She shook her head as she rose to a standing position, just like her Father expected her to do. His militaristic tendencies could be annoying as often as they where endearing. And to avoid a disapproving gaze, she made sure to look him straight in the eye. An act which made her realize that he was _not_ impressed, but not by her. Something else had ticked him off, and he had obviously come to his second-in-command to get it resolved as quickly as possible.

"Peitro is not on the compound," he said flatly. Internally, Wanda cursed her older brother. Of course he'd just go and make their Father mad like that. Especially if he was off robbing people blind with his Super-Speed. That could bring unwanted attention to their family. "And neither are Dukes, Alvers or Ferguson. I need you to find them. And now."

"I'll take Wanda and go look," said Betsy with a curt nod in her direction. Out of the corner of her eye, Wanda could see her father raise an eyebrow at this. A gesture which Betsy was quick to respond to with, "It's a good learning experience. I want to see how she does in the field." Wanda's heart skipped a few beats. She hadn't actually been outside their little compound in _weeks._ Having a chance to mingle with normal people was very welcome. She sincerely hoped her dad would say yes to this. But she couldn't plead with him. If she did, he was more likely to turn her down.

Luckily it seemed as though he trusted Betsy, someone who he'd worked with for the better part of ten years, to take care of Wanda. With only a nod he gave his approval, and the older woman swept her away with her arm.

["Whatever you do,"] Betsy's voice echoed around inside Wanda's head as they walked away, ["Don't mess this up."]

"I'll try not too," Wanda replied steadily. She was still getting used to the sensation of someone's voice in her head.

["Rule number one,"] Betsy replied quickly, ["Think your response, and I'll hear it. Only use verbal communication if I'm distracted. Or to distract others."]

["Okay..."] Wanda replied. Or tried her best to, at least. She wasn't quite sure if she did it right as the two of them made their way to the outside of the compound.

The compound that had been Wanda's home for the last month and a half was a former train cemetery. Everywhere she looked she could see the rusted remains of old box-cars lying in ruin. The lot had been 'purchased' by her father a few weeks prior to her arrival, though Wanda knew deep down that he had used other, more persuasive methods. Rumor was that he may have even had Betsy 'convince' the man to sell them the property.

 _Probably not the best idea to think like that when she can read minds,_ Wanda mentally slapped herself as the two of them finally slipped out of view of the compound. It didn't take long for them to find one of the cars they'd had stashed away for their use. _Gotta find out how to avoid that…._

["No, I'm not reading your thoughts, Wanda,"] Betsy said swiftly, as she opened the car door and got in the driver's seat. ["Your father would _kill me_ if I did."]

"Then how did-?" Wanda began to ask, only to be cut off by a raised finger. She realized her mistake without needing a scolding. ["Then how did you know that's what I was thinking?"]

["Because that's what's on _everyone's_ mind when I'm around love,"] the older woman replied dryly as she started the car. ["Most don't mean anything by it, really. They can't help it. Even your Father held reservations at first."]

...xxXxx…

"You'd think that with all four of us being celebrities," Jubilee muttered as they where escorted to a waiting table by an overdressed Waiter, "it would be utterly impossible for your sister to just go and disappear like that!" She took a moment to admire the decor around her. It was nice, almost as nice as what the Mansion had. Which made sense, as she got the feeling that the Museum had pulled all the stops for their visit, after learning that 'Captain America' himself was coming, and they'd been given the full VIP treatment from the start.

It had actually been a lot more fun than she'd thought it would be. She'd never _actually_ been inside a real Museum before. It had been a real treat. Especially when they'd gotten to the 'Captain America' exhibit and Steve had to correct the tour guide on over half of his facts.

"Jess has always done her own thing," Peter shrugged beside her as the Waiter continued to wind through the tables to bring them to their reserved spot. "Next time, _you_ try telling her no and tell me how that works out, okay?" he said with the slightest hint of a smirk.

"She's been looking over her shoulder all afternoon," Steve replied casually as they side-stepped a patron who was leaving. "Maybe she's been looking for someone? I mean," he continued in a tone that Jubilee knew was supposed to sound casual, but wound up being more probing than anything, "maybe she saw a friend? A boyfriend? A-"

"She's single at the moment, Cap," Peter quipped back, "so you can relax. You've got no competition right now. Go for it." Jubilee was forced to stifle a fit of laughter. Thankfully two seconds later they arrived at their table, and the others where too distracted as they took their seats. Though she thought she saw Peter grin a little.

The table, much like everything else in the building, was far nicer than what she was used to. A very posh-looking white tablecloth with gold trim covered the wooden surface. Four candles sat in the center, along with a vase with multicolored flowers. Four tall glasses where also waiting for them, filled with ice-cold water. Jubilee took a sip from hers as the menus where passed around.

The Waiter wordlessly made a series of tiny adjustments to their table. One of those adjustments, however, included lighting the candles. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Peter leap backwards out of his chair. He landed against the nearest wall just as the Waiter noticed exactly what was going on, and as both Jubilee and Steve shot out of their seats on pure instinct.

Peter's eyes darted rapidly from the table to the door. He was clearly looking for an escape route. Though from what she wasn't quite sure, until it clicked in her head. _The Candles._ That's what had frightened him so much. With a jolt she realized that he was no doubt _extremely_ pyrophobic, something which should have been obvious.

Before she could do anything though, Steve extinguished the flames by pinching his fingers together. A brief moment of tension hung in the air, as the three Avengers, as well as the Waiter, all glanced at one another. A few more seconds hung in the air before Peter slowly got off the wall. He looked both scared and ashamed of himself at the same time as he picked up the chair he had displaced and took his seat. The Waiter was gone before he sat down.

"That was-" Peter began to say, before Steve cut him off.

"My _word_ the food here is expensive!" he said as he rummaged through the menu, quickly taking the conversation in a new direction, away from where it had been going. "I'd _never_ have been able to afford anything like this back in the day!"

"Yeah!" Jubilee replied, feigning enthusiasm. "I mean..." she said as she glanced down at one of the menus. "Five dollars for a glass of water? I am _so_ glad this stuff is on the house!"

...xxXxx…

"Oh _god_ someone lives here?" was the first sentence out of Azari's mouth as soon as they arrived at the scene of the _crimes._ Plural. Every apartment that was devoid of people had been robbed blind. Doors hung off of hinges, windows had been smashed, tables overturned. The whole building looked like a tornado had gone through it.

" _People_ live here," Jean corrected him, slightly annoyed at his callous tone as she, Azari and Thor worked their way through the hallway. The Police had erected a perimeter outside, so they knew there was no risk of someone walking in on them accidentally. Whoever remained inside was likely the perpetrator.

"Reminds me of the Battle of Nikost," Thor shrugged as he tapped his hammer. "Our losses there where..." his voice trailed off somewhat as he seemed to examine a piece of broken pottery. Not for the first time, Jean considered asking him more about his past. But now was not the time, they had other things to do at the moment.

"Which one is his?" she asked, trying to stay focused, and not send everything flying into the walls in a fit of anger. As a telekinetic, she had to keep her cool at all times.

"Number five," Thor replied as he pointed in the direction of the door. However, as he spoke, Jean picked up on the presence of several minds nearby. Without to much prodding, she quickly discerned that they where not some Police Officers scouring the building. Nor where they tenants, who'd all been moved outside.

["Quiet,"] she whispered into her teammate's minds, shutting them up almost instantly. All three of them tensed up as they crept closer to whoever was in the building with them. She saw Thor reaching for his Hammer, so she put a hand on his shoulder. ["Don't bring the building down on our heads,"] she said, having a feeling that the Thunder-God was capable of doing just that.

Thor nodded, and they continued on their way. Jean sucked in a deep breath as she began to probe further into the minds of the three people inside the next room. All three where male, that was easy enough to determine.

At first she thought one of the young men might be Peter Parker, given how his mind whirred at a mile a minute, almost fast enough to make her head spin. But the moment she focused on the thoughts themselves, not the speed at which they flew past, she realized that wasn't the case. Peter's where more detailed and focused, and usually pertained to academic subjects. The minds she was scanning was far more interested in bragging about all the stuff they'd just stolen, and figuring out how they where going to get it out of there without being caught.

"Who's in there?" Azari whispered into her ear, getting a little to close for her comfort.

"Three men," Jean replied as she pushed deeper into their minds, trying to discern more about them. It felt morally wrong to intrude like she was. Their thoughts and memories became as clear as glass to her. Wretched thoughts. Vile memories. Stolen goods. Hard Drugs. Lots of blood. Bodies. She'd seen enough.

"….have to come back. That chick in number 5 had a great set o' tits," one of the voices said. She guessed that the speaker was a rather large man, based on is deep voice. "Eh, Peitro? How 'bout it?"

"Not with you in the room, Freddie," a second, preppier voice shot back. "No way I need _that_ image burned into my skull thank you very much!"

"I've heard enough," Azari snarled as he cracked his knuckled as strutted forward before Jean could really do anything to stop him. The Wakandan Prince's hands where already cackling with electricity as he barged into the room, followed closely by Jean and Thor. "You three are under arrest!" he challenged proudly, just as they entered the room.

The three men occupying the room all turned around in a state of semi-shock. Which gave Jean an opportunity to examine each and every one of them. The first thing she noted was that one of them was well over a foot taller than Thor was, and he looked to be about six times as heavy. The man was also _covered_ in grease, grime and filth. She was sure she'd seen fast-food restaurants with bathroom floors cleaner than his face.

The next one she examined was much smaller and slimmer. He was built like a runner, and wore loose-fitting gray clothing. He also had an air of cockiness about him, like he _knew_ he was in charge. His arrogance reminded her greatly of Azari.

The third was a mix of the two. He was large, but not as large as the first. He was built more like a linebacker than anything. Greasy hair covered his eyes, but Jean could still sense a smug vibe coming off of him. Something that jean was eager to smack right out of him.

"Now what the fuck do we have here?" the shorter, slimmer man chuckled as he eyed the Avengers. Internally, Jean cursed herself for actually wearing such ludicrous attire. There was no way anyone was going to take them seriously while wearing a multitude of bright colours. The three men across from them only chuckled lightly at what Tony Stark had promised would be an intimidating sight. Perhaps the only one who commanded any respect was Thor, which probably came from him being a mountain of muscle.

However, unlike Jean, who was used to being ostracized by others, Azari couldn't stomach the insult. Before she could react, the young Prince barreled forward, aiming to take out all three with one tackle. But the middle man smirked and raised his arms, before clapping them together and sending out a shock-wave that knocked Azari and Jean all the way through the adjacent wall.

...xxXxx…

"I am going to go find your Sister," Steve said abruptly, cutting through the dead, uncomfortable air of attempted conversation the three of them had attempted to strike up following the incident with the candles. They'd pretty much been sitting in silence, broken up by a few brief exchanges here and there. And although Steve wasn't very knowledgeable about the social cues of young people in the modern day, he was getting the impression that he was being a 'third wheel'.

Now somewhat relieved to be away from the awkward small-talk, he set his mind to the secondary goal of actually _finding_ Jessica Parker. That would accomplish two things in his mind. One: He'd have someone else to talk to. He really didn't have that many acquaintances outside of the Avengers, and one or two aged veterans from his time in the military, so he valued any and all company. Second, he figured that she'd be the person best equipped to handle the situation regarding her brother's reaction.

All he had to do was navigate the winding, twisted hallways of the Museum of Natural History in order to find her. Something that had failed when he had two extra sets of eyes with him before. But he soldiered on nonetheless.

Thankfully there weren't too many people in the building now, as the rush had died down significantly. Easily less than half remained. But there was so much ground for him to cover. He was sure that there where wings of the Museum he hadn't been in yet, so he made a mental list in an attempt to narrow things down.

However his attempts where all soon thrown out of the window, as he turned a corner and saw a waiting gaggle of photographers and reporters. He only had a mere moment to swear under his breath before they _charged_ him like a herd of animals. The flashing bulbs where enough to momentarily blind him, rooting him on the spot. Otherwise he would have managed to escape somehow.

He was bombarded with a multitude of questions, coming in from all directions as the reporters formed a semi-circle around him, trapping him even further. He couldn't even begin to answer any of their questions, as every time he opened his mouth his words where drowned out by even more questions. The majority of which he found to be either insulting, stupid, pointless irrelevant. Questions like 'who are you voting for in the next election?', 'What's your stance on Mutant rights?' and 'how do you feel about immigration policies?'

Absolutely lost in the media sea, Steve was very thankful when a man cut through the crowd like a hot knife through butter.

He was dressed in what looked like a rather expensive suit. Easily a thousand dollars or more. He carried himself as if he _knew_ he was the most important person in the room. A fact which sent shivers up Steve's spine as the man, who he now recognized as Robert Kelly, a current Presidential candidate, placed his hand on Steve's shoulder and smiled towards the press.

He had heard things about Robert Kelly before. The media spoke very highly of him. They called him an agent of change. He spun wild promises about how he was going to make the country a better place for all. He promised more jobs, greater wages, less crime and equality for every man, woman and child.

But there was something about his attitude that was just _off._

"Smile Captain Rogers," Kelly chuckled as he waved his hand through the air, towards the press. "Together you and I can break the internet with only a few pictures!"

"Uhh..." was all that Steve could respond with.

"Of course none of us wish to intrude on your little trip down memory lane," Kelly continued, not missing a beat. Almost as if he'd prepared the speech before hand. "Tell me Captain, how does it make you feel to relive the past again?" he said to another tidal wave of camera flashes.

"Well it..." Steve half-shrugged, still caught off-guard by the impromptu interview. "It ahhh…. I don't know what to think about it, honestly sir." Kelly smirked a little as he grabbed Steve's hand and forced him shake it. Things started to make sense to Steve now. Kelly was obviously playing up this encounter for political points, because although he was in the lead among voters, the gap between him and his opponent wasn't all that large. And obviously having Captain America's approval would do wonders for him. Which was why Steve wanted to leave even more than before. He didn't want to be some political pawn.

"Well that's quite alright Captain, I'm sure it's all a lot to take in, after all. If you ever need someone to talk to," Kelly said in a grand gesture as he feigned kindness. "My team has made notable donations to various veteran support groups across the country. Perhaps you should visit some one day. It may do you some good to get out and mingle with _real_ people."

"That sounds..." Steve replied nervously. He'd been taking pointers from Tony Stark about public speaking recently, as he was the public face of the Avengers. And one of the first lessons he had been given was to never verbally back himself into a corner. Which was exactly what Robert Kelly was trying to force him to do. "Like a good team exercise," he said, "I'm sure quite a few of the Avengers would like to-"

"Well we wouldn't want to intrude," Kelly interrupted, "not on their personal lives. No Captain, this is a personal invitation. But if there is one or two you'd like to bring along, I'm sure that would be fine!" Of course Steve wasn't so stupid that he missed what Kelly really meant by that, he just chose to ignore it and instead focus on finding his way out of the corner he was in.

"Well I am rather busy at the moment," Steve said somewhat defensively. "I'm sure we can schedule something in the future, but..." he said as his eyes darted around the crowd, and he _finally_ found Jessica Parker. She was standing against the far wall, half-hiding behind a stone pillar, looking directly at him while nudging her head towards an adjacent hallway. "…..we will have to see. I'm sure we can work something out. Now, if you'll excuse me..." he said as he forced himself away from the impromptu interview abruptly and through the thong of reporters and photographers.

He did not make a beeline for Jessica's position. In fact she disappeared the second his ended the interview. Instead he took the long way around, careful to stay _just_ ahead of the reporters. But not so far ahead that he looked like he was running from them. By ducking in and out of different rooms, he was able to loose his tail rather quickly. Before long he was free to begin to make his way towards her position without being followed.

Or so he thought.

Something grabbed him from the side and pulled him into a custodian access hallway. At first he thought about trying to fight off his assailant, but then he realized that it was _Jessica_ who'd dragged him out of view.

"Hey Cap," she smiled in the low light as she smoothed out the wrinkles in his jacket. "Sorry 'bout that. I didn't want to get dragged into that train-wreck."

"I..." Steve muttered, as he could hear the rushing footsteps of the paparazzi passing by, still looking for him. "What exactly are you doing?" he said, regaining his composure before continuing, "you go and invite the three of us out to tour an exhibit….and then you just disappear for a good hour? We're a team and-"

"I didn't really mean to drag you into this," she replied with a small sigh. "Seriously, I didn't. Hell, _I_ didn't want to get dragged into this. I just had to, in order to get things going."

" _What_ are you talking about?" he blurted as more shuffling of feet could be heard nearby. It was so soft that it could have been only one person. Not that he really cared at the moment.

"Come on Steve," Jessica whispered with a slight smirk, "you can't be _that_ thick."

"I don't understand what you-!" he snapped, wanting a straight answer out of her. But at the moment the words left his mouth, he realized just how loud he had been. Surely someone would have heard him. Jessica's eyes went wide as the shuffling sound returned, and the two of them pressed themselves into a dark crevasse in the hallway's wall.

"Think, Steve," Jessica whispered directly into his ear. "I'm here. You're here. And where are they?" It took him a few seconds to figure out where she was leading him. But when he did, he felt like the world's biggest idiot for not seeing it sooner. "They are together, right?" she asked after a brief pause.

"Yes," Steve nodded in response. "At least they where when I left to find you. There…." he continued, not quite sure how to word things. He didn't want to make Jessica panic by telling her about the incident with the candles. But he also felt like she would want to know. "There was..."

"'There was' what?" Jessica pressed forcefully.

"Well," Steve said, bobbing his head to the side in an attempt to buy himself time. "The Waiter went and-"

"Jessica?" a woman's voice said from behind him. In response, Jessica contorted her face into a tight grimace, as if she was both expecting and loathing this to happen. The two of them turned, and Steve was greeted by the sight of a modest woman approaching the two of them.

The woman appeared to be in her early- to mid-fifties. Her hair was transitioning between medium brown and light gray. She stood at about half a foot shorter than Jessica, but carried herself with immense pride, as if she was the most important person in the world. He could also definitely see a slight resemblance between the Woman and Jessica. "There you are!" the woman exclaimed warmly, as she broke the two of them apart in order to hug Jessica. Steve, on the other hand, took a step back, not wanting to get in between the two of them. After all, he didn't know the woman.

"Aunt May!" Jessica replied, through a somewhat strained voice as she shot Steve a glare that he was sure was an attempt to tell him something. But just what that was he couldn't be sure without asking, and he was fairly certain the 'message' was supposed to be private. "What are you doing here?" she said, perhaps a little to forcefully.

"Oh!" May Parker chuckled in surprise, catching sight of Steve for the first time. Obviously she was impressed by something. Probably him. "Am I interrupting something?" she asked coyly, as her eyes darted from Steve to Jessica. Her words where practically dripping with innuendo.

"No," Jessica replied quickly, as she stepped in between Steve and her Aunt. "No, you're not interrupting anything. What….what are you doing here? I though the three of us where going to go out this weekend?"

"Well can't I try and surprise you two every once in a while?" May chuckled back as she attempted to skirt around her niece to get a better look at Steve.

"Well not when I've made plans…." Jessica deflected easily with a smile to match that of her Aunt. "Why didn't you call ahead? Or at all? We could have arranged-"

"No, you would have shut me out," May replied simply as she jokingly crossed her arms in front of her. "Not that I can say I blame you," she continued nonchalantly, lightly bobbing her head as she talked. As the conversation between the two women went on and on, Steve picked up on more and more of the similarities between her and her niece and nephew. "But I actually came here looking for your brother. Someone said he was at the Hospital with you?"

"Yeah, he was," Jessica said quickly. "They met me there, and then we headed over here. He's-"

"Is he still here?" May said, cutting Jessica off. Ironically not getting her answer by doing so. "I was actually hoping to speak with him about-"

"Actually," Steve cut in politely, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. "Right now he's wi _hpmff_ …! _"_ The words where caught dead in his mouth as he felt his foot being crushed underneath Jessica's heel. It was _very_ evident that she wanted him to keep his mouth shut for some reason. So he let her do the talking, and he would follow her lead.

"He's where?" May asked. "Lost in his own world again? He loves this place so much," she said while being completely oblivious to the fact that Steve hadn't finished his sentence. Which was probably for the better.

"Actually Peter had to bail a few minutes ago," Jessica lied smoothly. "He got a call from Tony Stark. He's got some new equipment that he want's Peter to look over. _Right Steve?"_ she continued, finishing with clenched teeth. He corroborated her lie with a quick bob of his head, keeping things nice and simple.

"Oh that's nice," May Parker replied as she shuffled around the two of them, ushering them back into the main part of the museum. "Very nice. I think that's my favorite part of this little _endeavor_ of yours. Peter always wanted to be _just_ like Tony Stark. Ben even took him to a few of those technology conventions of his when he was little." Out of the corner of his eye, Steve caught a pained, embarrassed look as it crossed Jessica's face. She was clearly anticipating something. "And it's so much better than him hanging around those monstrous _freaks."_

Those words hit Steve's ears like a sledgehammer. He would have never expected them to come from a humble, unassuming woman. Especially after getting to know Jessica and Peter over the past few months, both of whom seemed like perfectly rational, politically correct individuals.

"We talked about this, Aunt May," Jessica was quick to reply with a sharp, but respectful tone. "Peter's an Adult. He's free to make his own decisions, and you need to accept that." But May Parker continued on as if Jessica had said nothing at all. Steve got the sense that this discussion had been going on between the two of them for some time. And a part of him wondered exactly why Jessica was so intent on setting her brother up with someone that their Aunt would profusely hate regardless. Sure, there was keeping an open mind, but what she was doing seemed more like stoking a fire with gasoline.

"Well he should know better," May spat as they continued walking. "Why the feds don't go and round those animals up is absolutely beyond me!" That language was all to familiar to him, and he had spent too much time campaigning against the man who had spread it around the world like a plague to not do anything about it. He resolved to say something, despite his teammate's shaking head, warning him to stop.

"Monstrous is a relative term, ma'am," he said both boldly and politely at the same time. He didn't intend to say more, but a hand grabbed his arm and attention. He turned and was faced with a cold, but not unkind stare from May Parker.

"Those _things_ killed my husband," she replied in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. "And a number of police officers who I knew very well. _And_ they have caused my family unnecessary suffering for the past ten years, Captain. I think I would know what a monster is, don't you?"

...xxXxx…

Despite the fact that they where supposed to be acting covertly, Wanda could not contain herself for very long while out on the street.

Even while following Betsy, looking for her brother, her eyes kept flashing towards the shop windows. Her fingers would gingerly brush wares displayed on the tables outside shops. She'd almost forgotten what the sensation felt like. It was so addicting.

["Focus"], Betsy scolded as she grabbed Wanda's hand and pulled her away. ["We get in. We get out. No distractions."] the two of them trotted along the sidewalk, with the older woman taking the lead and scanning everything in sight.

Knowing her brother like the back of her own hand, Wanda knew that he'd be doing the exact opposite of what he was supposed to be doing. Namely something criminal. After all, stealing came easy to someone with super-speed. And when combined with Fred Duke's muscle and Lance Alver's cunning, they made for a fearsome trio. A trio she was sure her father had put to work with some nefarious deeds that where beneath his right and left hand people.

["Sorry,"] Wanda replied, somewhat dejected as they crossed the street. ["I-"]

["Don't lie to me,"] Betsy interrupted in a firm but kind tone. ["Because I can tell when people are lying better than most people can. Any half-decent telepath can."] She continued as the two of them rounded a corner, and made a beeline for one of the more seedy parts of town.

She sucked in a deep breath as they wound their way through the narrowing streets. Every house they passed by looked more and more derelict. And the people outside looked more desperate than she could have ever imagined. They had a pale, hungry look about them.

["They can't see us,"] Betsy said reassuringly. [I've made sure of it. So there's no need to worry. I-"] the ground rumbled beneath their feet. Wanda stumbled slightly, but Betsy remained perfectly balanced. Though a look of alarm and disgust crossed her face as she pulled Wanda forward once more. ["Bloody idiots…..going to bring the government down on us all…..,"] she ranted to no one in particular.

["That wasn't a normal earthquake, was it?"] Wanda asked as a police car screeched past them.

["I don't think so,"] Betsy snapped back as the ground shook again. More violently this time. ["Stay behind me. This is going to get ugly."]

...xxXxx…

Azari, The Prince of Wakanda and the Black Panther, could not stop his head from spinning. The whole world had gone foggy the moment he tried to tackle the three people who'd mocked him. Something had knocked him backwards, through the wall. A voice in the back of his mind told him that the three men where Mutants. It was the only explanation for what had happened.

He shook his head, trying to focus his eyes as he vaguely heard someone shouting. Looking around, even through blurry vision, he could tell that he was outside the apartment building now. The Police had already pushed the barrier back even farther in anticipation of the fight that was about to break out.

Smart.

He pushed himself to a full standing position and looked back towards the hole in the side of the building. As his vision cleared, he began to see what was unfolding inside.

Jean had erected a telepathic shield around herself to stave off a blur of attacks, courtesy of what Azari assumed was a speedster. Thor, meanwhile, had his hands full in both a literal and figurative sense. The initial attack had destabilized the building somewhat, and the only reason the roof hadn't caved in was because Thor was able to reach it and hold it in place. But this left him wide open for the other two Mutants, the fat guy and the earth-shaker, to take cheap pot shots at his exposed ribs.

But not for long.

It only took Azari two strides to reach his top speed, and five more before he could slam his shoulder into the greasy-haired earth-shaker. They collided, and Azari rolled with his momentum, coming up on all fours, ready to pounce like a jaguar, while his adversary sprawled out like a doll before angrily getting to his feet.

"How the fuck can you bear to be outside in that thing?" the earth-shaker quipped with a smug grin stretched across his face. Azari didn't validate that with a response. The armor of his ancestors was not worth it. All he did was leap directly at the man with a growl, twisting in mid-air to avoid the shock-wave he sent out. One which could have sent Azari flying backwards again.

With two more punches, Azari had the earth-shaker on his back foot, unable to escape. But something caught him in the small of his back, forcing him to the ground momentarily. The fat guy had hit him from behind.

He hit the ground hard, but forced himself to recover. There was a lot of pain but he powered through it. There was no way he was going to be defeated by a couple of street thugs. He reached deep down inside of himself, calling on the powers of his ancestors to empower his body. Energy cackled around his fists, and he smiled. Things where going to get interesting.

With renewed vigor, Azari re-joined the fight, engaging the earth-shaker and the fat guy before they could take anymore cheap shots at the Thunder-God, who was using the respite to brace the ceiling with a couch and a wardrobe.

"Hey, Fat-ass!" Azari shouted as he leaped high into the air, reaching the perfect position from which to land a powerful punch to the man's face. However, his fist glanced off his face like it was nothing, and the fat guy let out a hearty laugh.

"Little pussy-cat can't throw a punch!" the man laughed heartily. Azari promptly responded by aiming a kick at his gut, and a punch to his nose. Neither of which made the guy budge even a little bit. IN fact, Azari's efforts only seemed to make him laugh even harder. Which only pissed the young Prince off even more. "Here, let me show you how it's done!" the fat guy said as he raised his flabby arms over his head, ready to bring them down on Azari.

Or he planned to, until something struck him in the back of the head. Thor's hammer, to be exact.

"You wish to see true strength?" Thor bellowed aggressively. "Then face me, mortal!" the two clashed with a tremendous ruckus as Azari returned his attentions to the greasy-haired earth-shaker, who clapped his hands together and forced the ground to shake tremendously.

"Neat trick," Azari quipped as he extended the claws on his gauntlet. "Mutant, right?"

"And proud," the earth-shaker replied with a cocky tone as he unleashed an even more powerful shock-wave. One which could have knocked Azari to the ground, if he hadn't sprung into motion at the last second, causing the attack to go way off the mark. He was mere inches from striking the man's face when he had the wind knocked out of him. The speedster had hit him. And he didn't stop at once. Azari felt no less than fifteen punches to his body before they miraculously stopped.

Looking to his left, Azari could see that Jean had recovered from the speedster's assault. And she now held the same man in mid-air, where he couldn't use his powers effectively any more. Now all he had to do was subdue the earth-shaker, and they could take the three men into custody.

Or so he thought.

A pulsating purple whip appeared out of nowhere, and snapped around his torso before tossing him through the air so that he landed at Jean's feet. As he recovered, he watched as Thor smacked the fat guy with his fist so hard that he flew backwards, and fell at the feet of a striking Asian woman. One who happened to be holding the whip that had entangled him. Standing next to her was a younger woman with auburn hair.

"Fall back _now!"_ the woman ordered sharply, speaking to the thugs they'd been trying to take down.

"Fuck you bitch," the speedster snapped back, "we ain't goin' nowhere till we've dealt with these pricks!"

"Then thou shall be forced to wait," Thor scowled as he, Azari and Jean formed a solid line, facing the four criminals down. Though they where outnumbered by two, Azari was certain that they could overpower them with ease, mostly thanks to Thor's immense strength.

"Come quietly and no one gets hurt," Jean said with a firm tone. "There's no need to drag this out."

"Pfft," the earth-shaker quipped back. "Yeah, right," he said as four black armored trucks pulled in from behind. Around twenty-five heavily armed federal agents poured out of the trucks and formed a semi-circle around the group of criminals.

"Hands in the air now!" one of the agents shouted, as they took several steps forward. But they where too late, as there was an explosion of movement.

First, all twenty-five men and women fell to the ground, having been struck by the speedster in rapid succession. As this was happening, the Asian woman reached behind her back, and drew a pistol, which she aimed quickly and fired off a series of shots at the Avengers. Two bullets pinged off of Azari's shoulder. Thor caught another three in his chest without even flinching. Jean ended up being worst off, however, by catching a bullet in her stomach. Even though her uniform was designed to resist small arms fire, the force still knocked her to the ground as Azari and Thor sprung into action.

Thor attacked the speedster and fat guy simultaneously, while Azari went for the Asian woman with the gun and the whip. He made an immediate swipe for the gun, but she retracted her hand too fast, even for him, so his hand hit nothing but air. Her whip, on the other hand, which did not seem to be entirely solid, wrapped itself around his ankle and pulled his left foot out from underneath his body.

Going with the flow of his momentum, he aimed a solid kick for her face. But again, she dodged with the slightest movement of her head. She countered by snapping her elbow against his knee, which happened to be the weakest part of his suit. Pain shot up his leg as he landed in a heap on the ground. But he didn't let that stop him.

He spun around, trying to sweep her legs out from underneath, but she vaulted backwards and pointed her gun at his head. He was quick enough to roll out of the way and get to his feet, with three more shots hitting the ground where he had been. But she quickly ran out of bullets, and Azari took the opportunity to close the distance between them before she could re-load.

He was close to doing so when he felt himself being thrown across the street by an invisible force. No one had touched him, and he could see Thor batting away at his two opponents, keeping both on their back feet with what he could best describe as a miniaturized thunderstorm. Until he too was tossed through the air like a rag-doll, and Azari caught sight of the culprit. The younger woman who had arrived with the Asian woman.

Before he could do anything however, a hole in the air opened up behind the criminal group and swallowed them up, leaving no trace whatsoever.

...xxXxx…

Elizabeth Braddock hit the ground hard the moment they arrived back at headquarters. The fight with the Avengers, though brief, had been taxing. There had been several times where she had been sure she was about to be killed, or taken into custody. Something which they couldn't afford.

" _What happened?"_ the booming voice of Eric Lensherr echoed around the room. She was the first to rise and give her account of events.

"Sir," she replied steadily, even tough she was still out of breath. "I searched for your son, as you asked me to. When we found him," she said, casting a sideways glance at Peitro, who glared back at her bitterly. He'd always hated her for some reason. "he and his friends had been cornered by three of the Avengers, and the police. I did what I had to."

Eric took one look at his son and said to him, "You are dismissed," and then turned his gaze past Elizabeth's shoulder, to where Wanda was leaning against the wall. She didn't need telepathy to know he wasn't pleased with the fact that she'd brought his daughter into a combat zone. And she didn't blame him. "And your assessment of your team's abilities in combat against the Avengers?" he asked plainly.

"Dukes and Alvers are good muscle, nothing more," she replied with a nod. "Perhaps they can handle one of the weaker members, but only with direction. Peitro on the other hand…." she paused, trying to think of something better to say than what she was really thinking. "...has potential. _If_ he can learn to take orders."

"I concur," was Eric's response. "And Wanda's?"

"Without a doubt," she replied confidently, "your daughter is the reason I'm still alive," she said, turning to face the young woman and giving an approving nod and wink. "With proper training and some experience, I think she could be as powerful as you or I. And I'm requesting that you allow me to oversee that training."

"Request granted," Eric replied, "But it will have to wait. I have a new mission for you. I want you to infiltrate the Avenger's headquarters. Tony Stark has something I need buried in a vault there."


	11. Mansion Mayhem

_**A/N: I am very sorry for the multiple uploads. There was a problem with the formatting (hopefully that's been fixed)**_

The Avengers Mansion was for once, very quiet.

To Peter Parker, it seemed as though almost everyone had left all at once. Jessica had picked up an extra shift at the Hospital. Steve was attending the Funeral of a renowned World War Two Veteran. Pepper was off dealing with some Stark Industries Business. Both Jean and Thor had dates. And Azari was off...somewhere he couldn't remember.

And with the Mansion being as big as it was, having only three other people, Tony, Hank and Kurt, made it seem as though the place was completely abandoned.

"And this is where the ghost starts playing mind games," he said to no one but himself. Almost as if on cue, he saw a flash of lightning. In the back of his mind he did the mental calculation to determine how far away the center of the storm was before he heard the corresponding boom of thunder. Six miles.

Of course, having a ghost running around the building wouldn't change much about his current situation, given that he was suspended upside-down from the ceiling while fiddling with a new web-shooter. One which he'd been incorporating some Stark tech into. He gingerly held a tiny screwdriver between his finger and thumb as he made the smallest of adjustments to the device while going over the specifications pictured in his head. He had to be precise, otherwise there was a very good chance the web-shooter would puncture the cartridge the next time he used it, enveloping him and everything around him in a ten-foot radius in sticky goo.

"Wonder if I could make a web-bomb?" he pondered out loud, as he immediately began to think of several ways to go about that. And situations in which it would be useful. Maybe for containing someone as strong as Thor. He made a mental note to ask the Thunder-God to be a guinea pig sometime, so he could test the idea out.

But at that minute, his train of thought was interrupted by his ringing cell phone. The distraction was jarring enough to cause him to almost drop the web-shooter at a critical moment, but his reflexes where too fast and he managed to recover it. And half a second later he shot out a line of webbing from the other web-shooter, which was still mounted on his wrist, and pull his phone from the couch beneath him into his hand.

"Hey, Aunt May," he said the moment he clicked the 'answer' button.

"Hello dear," his Aunt replied warmly over the phone. "How are you?"

"Fine, fine," he replied with a shrug, "you know….just hanging around."

"Not too busy, I hope?" she asked, "I'm not distracting you from taking down some nefarious gang, am I? Or foiling some world-ending plot?"

"No the world-ending plot was this morning," he quipped back. "the gang take-down's scheduled for Thursday afternoon."

"You've been very busy, haven't you?" she said in a smart-ass tone. "I saw you one the news this morning."

"Oh yeah. The bit with the Truck that had it's brakes fail," he said. Talking about it was enough to cause a small spasm in his shoulder, which was to be expected. Stopping a fully-stocked transport Truck wasn't all that easy. "Please tell me they got my good side at least. No, forget it. I don't have a bad side for them to film."

"You and your sister are among the best the Avengers, and this world has to offer, Peter," she replied. There was only a slight pause before she continued with, "far better than any of those _things."_ He shuddered at her words. He understood them, but he did not agree with them in the slightest.

Not that he could really say anything to convince her otherwise. She'd never change.

"I actually called you to ask if you could come by this weekend," she continued as the rain pelted against the windows. "I think the water heater's leaking again. And I don't think I can afford a professional just yet." He let out an audible sigh as he heard the doors leading to the outside open and close quickly.

"I'll come take a look this weekend," he replied with a small shake of his head. "But you do know that Jess or I would pay for that if you asked? We _are_ rolling in money right now, Aunt May. I'm already looking around for my own place, actually."

"Really?" she replied. "That's wonderful, Peter! I'm so glad that you're able to support yourself with this...job. Just don't over-extend yourself, okay Peter? And are you _sure_ you can afford to pay for a technician? If you're looking to buy a condo…."

"I can," he cut in warmly. "But I'll still take a look first, just in case it's something simple like last time. Listen," he said, reminding himself that there was now a chance that there was a telepath in the building. And he didn't exactly want the others knowing he was related to an Anti-Mutant bigot. "I gotta go now. Talk to you later." he ended the conversation before she could say anything else, and let out a slow breath.

He was about to continue his modifications to his web-shooter when there was a loud cry of " _GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!"_ coming from they foyer. He quickly dropped to the floor to see what was going on. Hopefully no one was hurt.

Thankfully no one was, he discovered once he entered the foyer. Instead, all he saw was Jubilee taking off a soaking wet raincoat. One which he could tell she was not too pleased with. Most likely because it hadn't kept her dry at all. She tossed the coat aside as she turned around, allowing him to get a full view of just how wet she was.

Every article of clothing she wore was soaked. Her socks, her pants, and especially the white t-shirt she'd been wearing underneath. She stood there with her arms stretched out to the side, dripping on the carpet with a scowl etched across her face. It took him some considerable effort not to stare at the parts of her shirt that where almost see-through.

"I was outside," she huffed as she tried to wipe the rain out of her eyes. "For ten minutes. To go get some batteries. And _now,"_ she continued as she took off her shoes. "I'm soaked to the bone without a change of clothes!"

Peter snapped himself out of his stupor and said, "here, take this. Don't worry, it's clean." As he slipped off the long-sleeve shirt he'd been wearing without a second thought and handed it to her. It actually took him a few seconds to process exactly what he'd just done.

He'd removed his shirt.

In front of someone else.

He could count the number of people that weren't Doctors he'd done that in front of on his fingers.

"Are you sure…?" she replied, as she failed to hide the fact that her eyes were trailing up and down his disfigured torso.

"Yeah, yeah," he said. There was nothing he could do about it now, he couldn't make her unsee how ugly he was. She gingerly took it out of his hands, finally pulling her eyes off him as she turned around and began to pull up her shirt. He only caught a glimpse of a thin scar-line etched across the small of her back before he too turned away, not wanting to seem creepy. "I can take those up to the dryer upstairs," he said as he stared at the wall, still trying to get the image of her t-shirt clinging to her body out of his head, which wasn't easy because it wasn't an image he wanted to forget.

"Thanks," Jubilee replied. "Thanks, really. I don't have a change of clothes here….really need to change that."

"Yeah that's one of the first things I did," he chuckled. "I figured since Stark's offering us rooms here, might as well use it for something, right?"

"So true," she said as Peter's eyes began to wander along the wall. "I might even have to move in here. My building's not exactly _friendly._ "

"I thought you where going to University for Fashion and Design or something?" he asked, "and living in a dorm?"

"I am," she said with a small huff. "But let's just say they're not very….."

"They've got problems with you being a Mutant, don't they?" he said with a slight roll of his eyes. Which led his gaze straight to one of the two floor-length mirrors on either side of the wall. A mirror which was at just the right angle to perfectly catch Jubilee's reflection in the other mirror right after she'd taken off her bra. That was an image that would be staying with him for some time. _Thank fucking god Jean's not here,_ he reminded himself as he forced himself to look away.

"Pretty much yeah," she continued, oblivious to the fact that he'd just seen her completely topless. "Though they're trying to be polite about it. The board is, anyway. Other students, and their parents, aren't taking it so well. Add in…... _my past_ and well, I don't know if I'd blame them."

"People can be really stupid," Peter shrugged, doing his best to not sound distracted. Which he was. Distracted by trying _not_ to imagine her in various, compromising poses. He instead focused on one particular spot on the wall, far away from the mirrors. "I mean, I don't know what 'your past' entails, but Jess has a criminal record. Can't get much worse than that, right? Yet she still went to Medical College, and passed with flying colors. There's no excuse for it."

"I'm done," she said as they both turned around. His shirt was just a little bit too long for her, traveling past her thumb and below her waistline. Thankfully her shorts had been mostly spared from the rain, so she still wore those. "thanks. I'll be sure to wash this before I give it back," she smiled as she gingerly handed him her sopping wet clothes. She then stepped past him, with her fingers gingerly passing over his shoulder, sending jolts of nervous energy down his spine.

"You're thank you….." he whispered with a sputter. "I mean _you're welcome,"_ he said, thanking the universe that she was out of earshot. As was everyone else.

...xxXxx…

Hank McCoy hummed to himself as he examined the chemical mixture in front of him. A chemical mixture that, once properly cured, would become a much more fabric-like substance with the ability to adapt itself to a variety of conditions.

If properly cured, it could become fire-proof, or make one immune to the cold. It possessed an amount of elasticity that made it completely unable to rip or tear. And if it was cared for in a certain way, he was sure he could make the fabric bullet resistant.

In fact, the only true catch to the liquid fabric was the fact that the amount he had in front of him, two gallons, would only be enough to make a few square inches of material. And those two gallons had cost about four hundred dollars. So there was almost no way this material was going to be commercially viable for the general public. But he felt that there was at least, a niche market for it in the Mutant community.

A quick chime from his laptop was enough to derail his train of thought. Someone was calling him through Skype. He tapped a button and an image of a striking young woman in her mid-thirties appeared before him.

"Hello, Doctor McCoy," said Lindsay Ellis, one of the first people he had saved as an Avenger. Who also happened to be the Daughter of the current President.

"Miss Ellis," Hank replied politely. "To what do I owe the pleasure? And how exactly did you get my-"

"Having friends in certain places helps one get information when they ask politely," Lindsay replied with a warm smile as she folded her hands together. "And I've certainly needed those friends recently. Which is why I'm calling you right now, actually."

"Oh?" Hank asked, perplexed as he sat down in the chair next to his laptop. "What can I help you with?"

"I am sure that you're aware of how much work I've been putting into Mutant support groups, Doctor," she said as the smile faded from her face slightly.

"I am," Hank replied, "you've been making a lot of waves. And a lot of enemies. Both Political and criminal, if I recall correctly."

"Yes, most definitely," she said with a small shake of her head. "And the latter has my father scared shit-less, thinking they'll do something horrible to me."

"Like at that rally," Hank nodded.

"Precisely. Or worse," Lindsay replied. "But they're nothing compared to some of these spooks on Capitol Hill. Let's just say that I've done something that's painted a target on my back the size of Texas. And I think I'm going to need some help from you and your team to see it through."

"You think you need some extra protection from this 'Watchdogs' group?" said Hank with a raised eyebrow.

"Good lord no," she said with a violent shake of her head. "No. My Father's already tripled my security detail. So I don't think I could be much safer than I already am. No, Doctor, this isn't about me. I..." she paused for a brief moment, obviously searching for the right words. "I'd like to meet with you in person to discuss this. And other Avengers as well, if you can swing it. Preferably the Mutant ones."

"Oh," Hank said, not entirely sure what she was implying. "I'll see what I can do. You send me the details on where and when you want to meet and-" all power to his laboratory cut out before he could finish his sentence, leaving him in a state of confusion. There was no way a building owned by Tony Stark, the world's leader in technology development, would experience a simple power outage. Either they where experiencing a major technical glitch, or there might be something to worry about. Hank hoped it was the former,

...xxXxx…

Pepper Stark sliced through the air in her Iron Man Armor, marveling at the recent adjustments to the aerodynamics that allowed her to make some sharper turns. Initially, she'd had some concerns about the changes suggested by Hank. Now, however, she planned on bringing him into the loop when discussing all future upgrades with her Grandfather.

"Now for a quick barrel roll," she said to herself, wanting to test out just how tight of a turn she could make. Mid-roll, a mild beep pierced her ears, telling her she was receiving a call. A quick glance to the bottom of her suit's head's up display showed a real-time feed from her Grandfather's office inside the Mansion. "What's up?" she asked the moments she answered the call.

"I need you here," he replied calmly. "The security system's been fluctuating. I don't know if it's the storm or the new upgrades to the system, but there are three second-long gaps in the perimeter feed."

"Can't you get one of the others to look at it?" she asked as she zigzagged between high-rise buildings. "I'm sure it's nothing."

"It might be," he said with a stern look on his face. "But I want your suit's scanners to take a look around, just in case. There are a _lot_ of people who'd love to get their hands on some of the items I've got downstairs." _Then move them off-site, grandpa,_ she thought to herself as she plotted a course back to the Mansion.

It didn't take long for her to reach her destination. Within minutes she was lowering herself onto the landing pad on the roof. Off to one side was an experimental jet that was a pet project of her Grandfather's, with some input from Hank McCoy. Supposedly it would transport the team around the world to deal with various threats and catastrophes. If they ever managed to get it working.

Right before her boots hit the ground, a wave of static passed over her heads-up display, blinding her for a few seconds, before she raised the face-plate and crossed the rain-soaked landing pad. She passed off the static on her heads-up display as interference from the energy field surrounding the building, nothing more.

Remembering her Grandfather's concerns, she plopped down the visor of her suit and did a quick scan of the area. There was nothing to see, except a small blip of thermal energy. Which she just chalked up to her eyes playing tricks on her, and she simply walked inside.

A door opened automatically, without her even needed to scan her ID card, thanks to built-in sensors. Now that she was out of the rain, she lifted her visor for a second time, freeing her face as she walked down the corridor, heading towards her Grandfather's office.

She passed by several rooms, some of which had been converted into sleeping quarters for members of the team without anywhere else to go, like Thor, Hank and Kurt. In one room, she caught a sliver of a glimpse of Peter pulling on a shirt. But she paid it no mind as she rounded a corner and entered the office.

Inside, Tony Stark sat at his desk, with his back to her as he watched several security feeds simultaneously. Looking over his shoulder, Pepper could see that there where twenty screens in total, covering all of the major rooms in the building. Plus one more that displayed schematics of the building, with a red dot representing each individual inside the building.

"What exactly is the-" Pepper began. Only to have him hold up a hand, silencing her for a moment.

"I told you," he said sternly as he stroked his chin. "There's something fishy going on here. The power to the perimeter sensors keeps fluctuating. And as time goes on," he continued as he leaned in, towards the screens. "interference from the storm seems less and less likely…... _there!_ " he said, jabbing his finger at the screen, where a new dot appeared, then promptly disappeared.

"Could it be Kurt?" she asked aloud, trying to figure out a simple solution. "Maybe he's teleporting around the building?"

"I thought of that," Tony replied sharply. "And I've had a camera trained on him for the past half an hour. He hasn't left his room yet." He turned away from the screens and looked her dead in the eye, with a completely stern look on his face. "I need you to do a perimeter sweep. Check every room, with every sensor. Something's up, and I want to know what."

...xxXxx…

Elizabeth Braddock huffed with anticipation. Anticipation that was keeping her anxiety at bay, for the moment at least.

She mentally went over her orders once more in her head. _Get in. Break into the mainframe with the virus. Steal the program. Learn what I can about the Avengers. Get out._ The mission was simple enough, she'd certainly done her fair share like it in the past. The White House, The Pentagon, The Kremlin, all of them and more. And they had even been a little bit _fun,_ considering how no one inside had ever stood a chance of catching her.

But this was different. She was going up against people with powers. Powers that could be a potential threat. She'd had to wait on the rooftop for several hours before the three biggest threats left the premises. She knew she'd never get a better opportunity than the one in front of her. So she sprung from her hiding place across the street, and made a beeline for the opening she'd created in the Avenger's defenses.

The first barrier she encountered was a physical one. The large fence that surrounded the building. It was more decorative than functional, and she didn't even need to vault over-top of it, she just slipped right through the bars.

The suit she was wearing was a masterpiece of military technology. It was a top-of-the-line stealth suit created for top covert operatives. Some of it's many gifts included thermal cloaking, active camouflage, light refraction, sound dampeners and sensor scramblers. The number of security systems in the world that could catch someone wearing the suit could be counted on one hand. Add in her own special talents and there was only one that stood a chance.

She sprinted across the garden and fired a grappling hook upwards, allowing her to begin scaling the wall. She reached the top in under thirty seconds and rolled under an exhaust vent, stopping to catch her breath. She hid more out of a force of habit than a necessity as she spied her entry point, a skylight.

And to add to her good luck, a quick mental scan told her that the room below it was completely empty.

She pulled the glass pane upwards and dropped down without a second's thought, and took a quick look at her surroundings.

She was in a bedroom. It was well-organized, with nothing out of place. Just like that of a soldier. Which was unsurprising, when she looked over at the nightstand, which showed off several old photographs of Soldiers in the Second World War. No doubt this room belonged to Steve Rodgers.

She thought briefly about rifling through the drawers, looking for some personal information to bring back to Eric about the man, but there seemed to be nothing to search. Nothing aside from a few clothes and pictures. She decided to leave them be and instead headed for the door, scanning the area with her telepathy as she went. There was no one in the immediate vicinity, and the closest presence she could feel was on the floor below her.

She looked up at one of the security cameras. The fact that there wasn't an alarm blaring meant that she hadn't been detected yet, and that her suit was holding up for the moment. But she didn't want to see how long the suit would last. She quickened her pace, knowing that she'd need to access the Avenger's computer mainframe. The only problem was that she didn't know where that was. And the only solution was to get the information from one of the Avengers.

...xxXxx…

Peter paused outside the rec room for a moment, steadying himself before going inside. The mental image of seeing Jubilee undress still lingered in the forefront of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to get it to go away. Even for only a short while. All he could do was act as natural as possible.

He entered, carrying two cups of coffee with him. One for himself, one for her. Jubilee was sitting on the couch, with the TV playing an old movie. Looking over to the two armchairs, he swore internally. Those where both in use. One bore her still-wet shirt, and the other a stack of books for Hank. He knew he couldn't move either without looking like he was distancing himself from her intentionally, given how there was enough room for at least two more people on the couch. He steeled himself as he approached.

"Oh!" Jubilee exclaimed excitedly, "coffee! Is that for-?"

"Yeah, yeah," he replied as he handed her one of the mugs. "I thought it might help you warm up a little..." he smiled as she took the mug from him. He almost shivered at her touch.

"Thanks," she smiled before taking a small sip. "Thanks for that…...this seat is free." He didn't really know if he reluctantly or enthusiastically took a seat beside her. "God I love this movie," she said as he flicked his eyes towards the TV again, and saw that she was watching _The Princess Bride._ It was at the scene where the two characters, Inigo and Westley, begin their mighty duel.

"It's one of my favorites too," he said as he found himself growing slightly more comfortable as they watched the cinematic duel unfold. "' _I am not really left-handed!'_ god that always gets me!" he continued, timing his quote with the movie's dialogue perfectly.

"First time I ever saw this movie," she said with a small chuckle. "Was at Xavier's, about two weeks after I first got there. I went looking in the basement for any….well _stuff_ I could nab and sell later on to other kids for some cash. Found the VHS version inside a discarded VHS player."

"I thought they gave you free room and board there? Why steal?" he asked, hoping he didn't come across as sounding like he was accusing her of something.

"Well yeah, I got free food, free education and free clothes," she replied with a small shrug. "But, well, the food was crap and all the clothes where _donated._ I'm not trying to be mean on anything but…." she paused slightly, obviously looking for the right words. "I guess I was just sick of seeing the other kids who still had _something,_ you know? I wanted some of that."

Peter nodded in agreement. He could certainly understand her desire to be a part of the crowd.

"So I went and set up a little mini-black market," she continued as she pulled her legs up from the floor, and set them on the couch between the two of them. "Someone would need something. And I'd happen to have it. Raked in cash for almost a year before I got caught."

"And they made you give it all back?" he asked, in spite of himself.

"Yep," she replied. "One of the downsides of living around Telepaths is that you can't lie too them….unless you really know what you're doing. But yeah, I had to give it all back. And I had to do 'community service' around the campus." As she talked, Peter couldn't help but notice her bare feet sliding towards him. Either by accident or on purpose, he wasn't sure. "So I took the money they didn't take from me and started working with the only other thing I was good at besides stealing things. I started making clothes for people. Got myself on track."

"Now look where you are," Peter said with the smallest nod. "Finally in a position to really do some good in the world, right?"

"Yeah, no kidding, right?" she chuckled as she took a long sip of her coffee. "Shit, I never even thought I'd get to sit on a couch and stretch like this!" she said as she stretched her legs out as far as she could, finally resting her feet on his lap. "There was never this kind of room back at the school. Or Saint Agnes's Orphanage. Or….having space like this is nice." she said as they both returned their attention to the TV.

As they watched, Jubilee set her mug down on the table in front of them and straightened herself to a proper sitting position. A side-effect of this was that she was now much closer to him than before. And as before, he was torn between appreciating the gesture and being terrified by it. After all, his previous experiences with attractive women ranged from passable to horrendous. And his confused state only grew as she cast a few awkward glances towards him.

"Can I..." she began nervously. "Can I ask you a…. _personal_ question?"

" _Uh_ sure?" was his response. It was the only one he could really give without being rude, given how she'd just dumped a whole lot of personal information on him a few moments ago.

"Why _um…._ ," she paused briefly, averting her eyes for a brief moment. "why didn't you get any….uh….surgery for….you know….?"

"Oh." He said plainly. It wasn't the first time someone had asked him that question. And it certainly wouldn't be the last time, either.

"You don't have to answer!" Jubilee replied hurriedly. "I just…..wanted to know why not?"

"I _did_ get surgery done," Peter replied with a small grimace. "Skin grafts mostly. Here, here and here are the most obvious," he said as he pointed to his neckline, the left side of his jaw and right wrist. All places where anyone could clearly make out the scalpel lines in his skin. "And along other joints like my knees. Basically where the doctors _had_ to do surgery."

"But I mean…." Jubilee continued, "couldn't you have had some plastic surgery? Maybe a-"

"I could have," he nodded. "But that was a very _trying_ time. The Hospital bills forced us to sell the house, and a lot of our possessions. And my Uncle's retirement fund, life insurance policy and life savings where drained completely. And that was _after_ we where given about fifty grand in donations from the Police Department, Church and a few close Friends and Family."

"All that money….gone just like that?" Jubilee asked, "that….that doesn't even seem possible. I mean, how long-"

"It wasn't just the grafts," Peter continued heavily. "Like I said. I _could_ have had reconstructive surgery done. About a month afterwards, we found a Doctor who could do what needed to be done. He was one of the best in the world when it came to impossible cases….like mine. Which meant he was very expensive. Someone with _Tony's_ money would think twice about paying what we had to. But we where all out of options, so we shelled over everything we had."

"And that's all he did?" Jubilee injected.

"No." Peter grimaced, reaching a point in the conversation that he really didn't like. But he kept going. "We had one consultation a few weeks after the _incident_. He took the money. And then told my Aunt there was nothing he could do for me. I'd either live or die, plain and simple."

"That sounds horrible," she said with a small whisper.

"It was," he agreed, casting a sideways look at her. "I guess the universe thought so too. Because about a weeks later he shattered his h…." the hair on the back of his neck stood on their ends as his brain went on full alert. Something was very off, and he scanned the room with his eyes, looking for whatever it was that he couldn't quite place. He could have sworn he heard someone take a sharp breath of air the moment he rose off of the couch.

"What?" Jubilee asked, "what's-?"

"Something's wrong," he said as he watched a faint outline of a shadow sprint out of the room. "Someone doesn't want to be seen!" he said as he ran after it, and Jubilee desperately tried to catch up.

...xxXxx…

Pepper marched down the halls of the Mansion, with the sense that her Grandfather was right growing in her mind. The communication systems had shut themselves down all of a sudden. That was sending alarm bells off in her head. She had her armor running a constant scan of the surrounding area, looking for any potential intruders. Though just how anyone could get inside was beyond her. The security systems they where using where the same kind used at the White House. _Probably better,_ she theorized as she saw both Hank and Kurt coming towards her. And both wore confused expressions.

"Something's wrong with the phones," Kurt commented as the three of them came to a halt. "They've been cutting in and out."

"The same with the WiFi," Hank added politely. "Small surges. But I don't think it's related to the storm."

"It's not," Pepper replied. "Grandpa thinks there's a security breech. And I'm inclined to believe him right now."

"What?" both men said in unison.

"There's been a-" she began to say, stopping only when her armor picked up yet another 'hiccup' in it's feed. A small heat signature appeared just down the hallway, but disappeared a second later. Something was hiding from her. " _JARVIS_ tag the next heat signature you see!" she commanded the artificial intelligence program. "And don't loose it!" she hollered as she activated her thrusters and shot off down the hallway after it. Hank and Kurt both followed her with surprising ease.

She came to the end of the hallway and turned down a new one, just in time to catch sight of another heat signature, tempting her to follow it. But in order to do so, she had to leave her two teammates behind in the dust.

That was a big mistake on her part.

The attack came from above, to fast for her to react. Something slammed into her back, knocking her to the ground. IN the back of her mind she heard a metallic _click_ but she paid it no mind as she quickly rolled over as her heads-up display went haywire, and began to cut in and out, leaving her blind half the time.

The other half of the time she could see the outline of a woman wearing some sort of high-tech cloth suit, which the light seemed to bend around. Almost like she was semi-transparent. And even though Pepper's armor surpassed the strength of a normal human, the woman seemed to be overpowering her, which was odd. Thor could probably overpower her. And _maybe_ Steve, Peter or Jessica could as well. She'd have to access the main computer and pull up their files, just to check.

Pepper began firing concussive blasts at random, hoping to knock this woman off of her. But every time the woman managed to slip out of her firing arc, almost as if she could predict where Pepper was going to fire. Which seemed like it was impossible, but she'd have to access the main computer, just to check.

 _Wait. Why do I have to access the main computer?_ She thought to herself, realizing that all of her thoughts where headed in that direction. She looked her attacker dead in the eye as she thought _I'll have to access the main-._

 _BAMPF!_ Kurt appeared above the woman in a puff of purple smoke. He tackled her, forcing her off of Pepper. But the woman retaliated quickly by tossing Kurt off almost as quickly as he'd attacked, just as Hank slid into view. Kurt re-appeared and kicked the woman in the back as Pepper rose to her feet. And before Pepper could do anything Hank charged the woman, obviously trying to use his greater size and strength to his advantage.

But the woman was too crafty for that, she rolled to the side and extended what looked like some sort of energy-whip that tangled itself around Hank's ankles, forcing him to the ground. Pepper took this opportunity to raise her hands and fire another concussive blast. But again, the woman ducked out of the way at the last minute, and spun around to sweep one of Pepper's legs out from underneath her.

Kurt re-appeared behind the woman once more, but she was more than prepared for him. She lashed out with a fist, which caused him to teleport out of instinct, and appear behind her again. However he landed right in the path of the foot that she kicked out into thin air, knocking him against the wall as Hank finally righted himself and tried to grapple her once more.

He succeeded, but only briefly. The moment her wrapped his arms around her she went to work attacking his shins, wrists and rib-cage with everything she had. She almost escaped when Pepper managed to grab her ankles and prevent her from kicking Hank again.

"Who the hell are you?" Pepper demanded loudly. The woman only stared just past her shoulder at something. Pepper turned her head to see what she was looking at, just as Kurt flew past her and tackled _Hank,_ who dropped the woman and tumbled to the side. The woman slipped out of Pepper's grip and began to sprint away. And before Pepper could try and catch up with her, Kurt grabbed her shoulder and teleported them both to the other side of the Mansion.

As soon as they had re-materialized, Kurt slumped to the ground, clutching his head.

"I..." he stuttered, "I don't know why I did that…" Something ticked in the back of Pepper's mind as she contemplated what to do next. Things where too hectic at the moment, they where too disorganized. They needed to re-group in order to corral the intruder properly. And possibly call in some backup. In order to do that she needed to get to the war-room, so she could send out a proper message to the other Avengers. Provided that system wasn't down as well.

...xxXxx…

Hank McCoy stood on the spot, still trying to clear his head after the commotion. The intruder had disappeared mere seconds after Kurt had teleported Pepper away. He knew he had to go looking for the intruder, but the light-bending suit she wore would make it nearly impossible for him to find her unless she found him first. Which would be very bad.

He started walking off in the direction that he _assumed_ she had gone down, hoping to at least find some sign of her. He still hurt from the brief fight with the woman. Clearly she was well-trained in various forms of combat. Skilled enough to handle three people, two of whom possessed superpowers and the other a suit of high-tech armor, in hand-to-hand combat. Which made her very dangerous.

He turned his head as he picked up the sounds of pounding footsteps. Someone was running towards him. He quickly braced himself for another sound beating, until Peter Parker came into view.

"You seen any ghosts?" Peter asked pointedly as his eyes darted around the hallway.

"So you encountered our intruder as well?" Hank replied with a small sigh of relief. He was extremely thankful that he wouldn't have to explain the concept of a chameleon-like individual running around the Mansion unchecked.

"We saw them down in the rec room," Peter nodded.

"We?" Hank asked. As soon as the words left his mouth, he heard more running footsteps. Jubilee sprinted into the hall behind Peter, and appeared to be very out of breath.

"What." she panted, "Is. Going. On?" She spoke in between ragged breaths.

"Kurt, Pepper and I just had a little….encounter with an intruder," Hank relayed to the two of them. "Highly skilled. Very dangerous. She made the three of us look like the three stooges. What do you know?"

"I just saw something out of the corner of my eye," Peter replied. "A shadow that couldn't have belonged to either of us."

"I still say you're crazy," Jubilee said with a shake of her head. "You can't be invisible and still have a shadow!"

"Well you can if you're wearing a light-bending suit," Peter quipped as he rubbed his chin. "Which would mean that you're still solid, just mimicking your surroundings."

"And vulnerable to a system overload," Hank reasoned. "During the altercation she became easier to see the more she moved around."

"Well she's obviously supposed to be sneaking around," Peter said as he leaned against the wall. "Not picking a fight with us. Which means that she wants something. Either she needs to steal it or hack it." All three of them exchanged a quick glance with one another as they contemplated what to do next. Hank reasoned that they had three separate, yet interlinked objectives.

"We have to re-group," he said plainly. "And watch the vault. And the mainframe."

"But we shouldn't split up," Jubilee replied. "Because that's when the bad stuff usually happens."

"Not to mention I don't think any of us will be a match for this person," Hank said. "It took three of us to barely hold our own against her."

"Yes but now we know what we're up against," Peter replied with a bob of his head. "Which gives us a better chance. So," he said as he stroked his chin again. "even though this goes against every horror-film trope, we need to split up. Hank, you go for the vault and guard it. Jubes, you go to the mainframe. I'll go look for the others and send them to the vault. Then I'll join you."

"Right," Hank said as he turned to go down the hall. A part of him realized that it was a terrible idea for him to go alone. But he also knew that the only other options where to leave one objective unguarded, or leave one person alone. Neither of which was a good idea. So he took off, hoping to reach Tony Stark's vault of confiscated items before their intruder did.

However he did ponder what exactly he would do if he encountered the intruder again. He certainly was no slouch in a fight. Especially since he, like every other member of the team, had been getting hand-to-hand combat training from Steve Rogers over the past two months.

But that hadn't helped him in the fight earlier. So it might not help him again.

..xxXxx..

Tony Stark let out a low growl as he tapped his cane against the floor. He didn't like the situation one bit. He hated the fact that he'd been sidelined because of his age. He certainly understood _why_ he was sidelined. After all, he was the one who'd sidelined himself. But he still hated it nonetheless.

Briefly, his eyes flickered over to the large mural painting on the wall, depicting his old team standing together. He often wondered just how they'd react to seeing him in his current state.

" _You should retire,"_ Sue would have told him. _"Leave this to the new team. Give them a chance to strut their stuff."_ She'd always been the most kindhearted one. Always willing to lend a hand to those in need, serving others before herself. She would most certainly have gotten along very well with Jean Grey. They'd have organized some sort of fundraiser within a few hours.

" _Man, you look like hell,"_ Lucas Cage would have chuckled, probably before slapping Tony on the shoulder. Then he'd go off and challenge Thor to an arm-wrestling match, followed by a night of drinking.

" _I hypothesize that the only reason you're still standing here is through sheer stubbornness,"_ Is what Reed Richards would have told him. Probably before going off with Hank and Peter to discuss some scientific breakthrough. He certainly would have loved to see some of today's current technology.

" _You need to access the Mainframe,"_ is what Janet would have said. Tony stopped himself there. There was no way the Wasp would have said anything like that. No one on his team would have. They barely ever used computers back in the day. He spun around on the spot and found himself face-to-face with proof that the Mansion had indeed been infiltrated. ["Now,"] a voice inside his head ordered.

"So you're a Telepth?" Tony grinned as his eyes flickered towards the door. In his youth, he would have made a run for his armor. But now his only options where to stay and fight, or be held hostage. And he doubted he could fight.

["Do it,"] the intruder, who was a woman wearing a high-tech infiltration suit, designed for military use a few years ago. The kind of technology he was itching to phase into an Iron Man suit one day, once the camouflage system overload problem was solved. ["Now, old man."] she snarled as Tony glanced towards his desk. In one of the drawers, he kept a gun concealed for emergencies. He'd never been forced to use it in the past, due to the presence of other, more effective methods of incapacitating foes. But this was obviously a special case. ["Don't try anything,"] she snapped briskly, ["and I won't hurt you."]

Tony didn't listen. He dived for the desk and swung his cane at the same time. His cane missed the woman by a few centimeters as she sprung forward to intercept him. And it quickly became very obvious that even if he was forty years younger, this woman would still have bested him in unarmed combat. She twisted his arms around his back in an expert manner and slammed him against the center console to the main computer. She also reached into the drawer he'd been aiming for, and pulled the gun out of it's hiding place, confirming the fact that she could read his thoughts.

["Don't move,"] she ordered as she placed the gun to the side of his head. She also placed her other free hand on the base of his temple. And now Tony felt a strange sensation creep through him. He felt himself loosing control over his body as a buzzing sensation filled his limbs, not unlike when his foot fell asleep. He lost all control of his right arm, and he was forced to watch as it moved on it's own towards the palm scanner which would verify his identity, and give the woman unlimited access to the Avenger's computer database. Some of the information stored inside could topple governments. Thankfully, there was one little snag the woman hadn't counted on.

"R _ECOGNIZED. ANTHONY STARK. ACCESS DENIED"_ the computerized voice of _J.A.R.V.I.S._ said loudly, for all to hear.

"What?" the woman snarled, speaking for the first time with her real voice.

"Did you really think..." he replied as she shoved the gun harder against his temple. "that I'd be stupid enough to give _myself_ access to those files?" he said with a grimace of both pain and satisfaction. "I _know_ I'm the weakest link…." she pulled him up to his feet and brought him close to her mask-covered face. Again, he could feel a peculiar sensation seeping through his body. Although this time it was centered around his brain. This person was most definitely a telepath. He needed to re-double his efforts to find a way of combating people like that.

["Open it!"] the woman demanded.

"I can't," Tony replied with a confident smirk.

["Then how do _I_ get it to open?"] she demanded.

"You won't be able too," Tony shot back at her. Only an active member of the Avengers could open it. And it took him a second to realize that she'd just gleamed the answer from him mind.

["So all I have to do is get one of them to do it,"] she responded, with what sounded like a psychic smirk. ["But you can't open it. So I can't threaten one of them…."] she continued as Tony's eyes went wide with fear as he heard the distinct sound of footsteps coming down the hallway.

...xxXxx…

Peter actually swung his way through the halls of the mansion as he made his way to his destination. Fortunately it hadn't taken him very long to find Pepper and Kurt. He had quickly filled him in on his plan, and they had agreed to follow it, as they had no other real options at the moment.

So they'd taken off after the Vault, leaving him to go and find Jubilee at the main computer. However as he swung he thought about just what they where going to do after that. They had no way of contacting each other, or the rest of the team. So they would either have to wait for someone to come back, or for their intruder to make a move. Neither of which really seemed like they where the best options.

Mentally he went over ways they could take down this intruder. The first problem was that they could not see them properly. They had to find some way of disrupting the intruder's camouflage abilities. The first thing Peter thought of was to cover them in paint. However, he realized that they didn't have any available to them. _Webbing might work,_ the thought to himself as he bounded off a corner, _as a substitute. Maybe someone can get to Stark's armory and find or make a localized EMP generator to fry the suit._ He vaulted up a set of stairs, knowing he wasn't far from the main computer as he began to consider how to deal with the intruder once they dealt with the camouflage.

"Hank said he was able to hold them in place for a few seconds," he said to himself, "So I guess that's an option…..but he also said she might be a telepath or something….she made Kurt attack him. Great. That adds fifty wrenches to the mix….." he continued as he bounded around the corner.

As he moved through the halls, he found himself _still_ unable to push the thought of Jubilee changing in the mirror out of his mind.

Sure, she was very attractive. Definitely the most attractive member of the team, though there wasn't much competition, given that he was related to one of the other three female Avengers. And on top of that she was the wittiest, funnest and most enthusiastic member of the team. Something about her made him feel completely at ease while at the same time made his stomach fill with butterflies. _Christ, May would FLIP if she knew what I was feeling right now…._ he reminded himself as he landed on the floor, just around the corner from the hallway that led to the Computer mainframe. _I….fuck what do I do?_ He stopped himself from going into the hallway, wanting just a moment to compose himself. There really wasn't any denying that he was itching to ask her out. Really the only two things stopping him where his own fear of rejection, and the knowledge that his Aunt would react violently if he did. He wiped his brow and took in a deep breath in order to calm himself down a little bit before casually strolling into the next hallway.

Jubilee stood there, alone. She almost looked bored to be there.

"Stark was in there," she said casually, "but he wandered off. Said he wanted to try and get communication back up and running." _So we're on our own,_ he thought, _again._ That was both what he wanted and what he wanted to avoid at the same time. "He said no one had been inside since he told Pepper to check the perimeter."

"Well that's good at least," Peter replied, being more interested in keeping the conversation going than anything.

"Any idea how to stop this 'ghost'?" she asked with a small shrug.

"No," he replied. "not reall-" his heart stopped in his chest as the air behind Jubilee began to warp and twist. Before he could do or say anything, the intruder produced a gun. A gun which she held firmly against Jubilee's skull.

"Shit..." Jubilee swore.

["I think you know what I want,"] the intruder barked quickly. The words formed instantly in his head, confirming the fact that she was indeed a telepath. ["Open it for me, and I'll leave."] A hundred different equations ran through Peter's mind in an instant. He tried to figure out a way for him to pull the gun away from Jubilee's head by factoring in his reaction time, the woman's reaction time, and how fast his webbing flew. It wouldn't be enough. ["Don't try anything, _boy._ I know what you're thinking."]

"You're a _fucking_ telepath, aren't you?" Jubilee hissed violently.

["Smart girl,"] the intruder replied. ["Now keep your mouth mouth shut while your boyfriend goes and does as he's told."] she said as she indicated towards the room which they stood outside of. Peter stood still. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't just _give_ this woman what she wanted, but at the same time, she had a hostage. ["Now, kid. Unless you _want_ me to redecorate the walls with her brain."] Peter took in a deep breath as he began to comply with the woman's demands.

He placed his hand against the palm scanner, and _J.A.R.V.I.S_ said in a loud, computerized voice " _RECOGNIZED. PETER PARKER. ACCESS GRANTED."_ The computer monitor next to the palm-scanner lit up, giving him, and by extension the intruder, unlimited access to any and all information stored on the hard-drive.

["That one,"] the intruder said as she pointed to a folder displayed on-screen. In between her thumb and finger she held a flash drive, which she shoved into an open port on the side of the monitor. ["copy it and I'll be on my way."] Peter did exactly as he was told, and moved the digital file onto the hard drive. He wished he could stop, but he knew there was no other way at the moment. He was still prepared to act with a split second's notice, however. Which came in very handy three seconds later.

[" _WHAT!?"_ ]the woman roared, completely out of the blue as her gun-holding arm dropped to the side. And in a flash, Jubilee raised one of her hands so that her palm was directly in front of the intruder's face. Half a second later a shower of multi-colored light blasted it's way into the woman's face.

The effect was two-fold. One, the woman would now be blind for a few seconds. And two, Jubilee had managed to overwhelm her camouflage system. The suit now looked like a psychedelic drug trip.

Peter wasted no time in webbing up the woman's gun. And once that was done he aimed a solid kick for her ribs. His blow landed a half-second after the woman managed to grab the flash-drive from the USB port, and she went flying across the room and hit the wall with enough force to dent the wall. She recovered very quickly, however. In the blink of an eye she spun around on the ground and swept Jubilee's leg out from underneath her.

Peter leaped over Jubilee and tackled the woman before she could get to her feet. They both rolled into the hallway, and Peter received a sharp kick to the face. He stumbled back, feeling blood dripping down his nose. Now it was Jubilee's turn to take the offensive. She filled the hallway with a shower of light, giving Peter a slight reprieve as he wiped the blood away from his mouth. Jubilee also took the opportunity to draw out a handful of coins from her pocket and charge them with energy before throwing them at the intruder. The series of tiny explosions wouldn't do much damage, but they kept the woman disoriented enough for Peter to re-join the scuffle.

He shot another blob of webbing at the woman's gun, making sure that there was no way she could fire it at them as he made a grab for her other hand, which still held the small USB drive. He easily overpowered her when it came to muscle, but every time he pinned her, she managed to squirm her way out with well-placed kicks and punches.

This continued for some time, as the three of them made their way down the hallway. Until eventually Peter was able to seize the woman's hand and bash it against a table, forcing her to release the USB drive on reflex. For that, he received a sharp knee to his solar plexus which he only barely blocked with his hand.

But that strike had only been a feint that allowed the woman to get around him and make a grab for the USB Drive. Jubilee intercepted her, but she was quickly put to the floor by an expert toss from the intruder. Peter rushed after her, pinning her to the ground right before she could grab the drive. The woman then twisted her body around and snaked her legs over his shoulder before giving a quick tug on his arm, pulling it out of it's socket. Obviously she thought the pain would distract him long enough for her to grab the drive and run, but she was wrong. Even with only one good arm Peter managed to grab the drive before she did, and crush it in his hand.

For that he received a whipping blow from the barrel of a handgun to the side of his temple. Everything went dark once the blow connected.

...xxXxx…

Elizabeth Braddock held her sides tightly as she pounded through the streets. Every part of her body hurt like hell. She was sure she'd broken at least half of her ribs, and dislocated one of her ankles during the mission. A mission which she'd failed by only a hair's breadth.

She'd made her way into the sewers underneath New York City, knowing that would be the last place the Police, or Avengers, would be looking for her. Hopefully the latter would still be too busy making sure she hadn't stolen anything else of value. Which she hadn't. Dirty gray water sloshed at her ankles as she moved along at a slow trot, with every breath hurting more and more. There was no way she'd make it back to the compound on her own power.

Eventually she realized that she couldn't take anymore of it and slumped against the nearest wall in absolute defeat. She reached inside her now-damaged infiltration suit and pulled out a cell phone. It was programmed to only dial one number, which she did.

"Braddock," a rough-sounding voice on the other end answered. "Mission status? Did you get it?"

"The mission was a failure, James." She panted as she realized that her vision was starting to swim. She must have received a concussion of some kind. Most likely when she'd been kicked into the wall.

"Status?" her long-time companion replied.

"I need extraction. I'm at..." she struggled to say as she turned her head to read the plaque on the side of the tunnel wall. "I'm under 39th street...in the sewers." she looked down again at he hand. Through her swirling vision, she could see drops of blood. The effort made of speaking made her feel even worse than she already had, and she went even more limp than before. She barely remained conscious.

"We'll be there in twenty minutes," James replied quickly, "hold on. We'll come get you."

The line went silent, and she let the phone clatter uselessly to the ground as she felt herself loosing all energy. She forced herself to stay conscious through the pain. She had to work through it. She'd done it so many times before, and she could do it again. And this time was more different than before.

"Victor…."

...xxXxx…

Peter snapped his eyes open the moment he felt something wet slap across his face. A towel, doused in warm water, was being applied to his face by Jessica. She wore an expression that was a mix of concern and anticipation.

"Easy," she told him as she washed his face. No doubt in an attempt to clear away the blood. He was then able to get a better look around at his surroundings. He was laying on the couch in front of the television, which was playing the news in the background. All around the room the other Avengers, minus Thor and Azari, either sat or stood discussing the night's events. "Easy, Peter, I've got to get this cut cleaned out."

"What happened?!" he panted as he tried to rise. Jessica placed a firm hand on is chest and pushed him back down, however. Tony stepped forward from where he had been standing, talking with Pepper. "Whoever she was," Tony said with a grunt, "she managed to get away. But not with whatever she was trying to get. Thanks to you."

"Was anyone else-?" Peter started to ask. But Jessica interrupted him.

"You got the worst of the injuries," she said as she set her cloth down, and reached for a small, personal first aid kit. "But nothing too serious. A broken nose, dislocated shoulder, bruised ribs, plus a nasty gash above your eye. I'm gonna have to stitch that one. So hold still," she said as she produced a needle and some suture thread. He lay back as she went to work, but that did not stop his string of comments.

"What was she after?" he asked.

"A file," Tony replied with a tap of his cane. "That contains a list of all known Mutants living in the United States. And their Powers. Which leads me to believe that she herself may have been a Mutant."

"Groundless accusations," Jean replied hastily as Jessica began threading the needle and suture through Peter's forehead. "Which leads-"

"That is irrelevant. What we should be investigating is who would be interested in that kind of list?" replied Hank. "Either someone who wants to recruit more Mutants, or is looking to eliminate potential-"

"So she's working for those 'Watchdog' people?" Jubilee asked.

"That wouldn't make sense," Jessica said as she continued to sew the wound on Peter's forehead shut. "They hate almost _all_ powered people. And yet you all agree that she had some kind of telepathy powers, so there's no way they'd hire someone like her. By the way, Wondra, _nice shirt."_ she said with added innuendo.

"Uhh, thanks?" Jubilee replied.

"So you think it's someone looking to find Mutants, but _not_ eliminate them?" Tony said as she took a seat. "Who else, aside from me, SHIELD and Charles Xavier would want to do that?"

"Uhh, guys..." Kurt muttered as Jessica finished with her stitching, allowing Peter to rise to a better seating position.

"Hang on Peter," Jessica said, "I still have to re-set your shoulder. So please roll over on your side. And I'm pretty sure there are plenty of big-time warlords and crime-lords who's love to have a few Mutant enforcers in their ranks, Tony. They might be worth investigating."

"Very true," the older Stark replied with a nod. "I think this is something the NYPD and SHIELD will be interested to learn about. In the meantime, Jean, can you ask Xavier if he's had anyone approach him recently about this? Because I am willing to bet that his lists are as complete, if not more so, than mine."

"Guys," Kurt repeated, slightly louder this time.

"Sure," Jean replied with a shrug. "I'll give him a call later on. But-"

" _ACK!"_ Peter shouted as Jessica finally pushed his shoulder back into it's proper place. "Dammit that hurt!"

"Don't be such a baby," Jessica grinned with a gleam in her eye, as she patted him on the cheek.

"Guys!" Kurt repeated for the third time, raising his voice so everyone turned their heads to look directly at him. Peter followed Kurt's gaze all the way back to the television screen, as someone raised the volume.

" _Breaking news: The Supreme Court has officially re-opened the case of John Alderyce after lobbying from a variety of Pro-Mutant groups crying for his release. A court date has been set for two and a half months from now. Alderyce is a Mutant Pyrokenetic who was sentenced to life for setting fire to an NYPD Police station ten years ago…."_

 _ **A/N: So things are about to get a little bit interesting, aren't they? There's still a little ways to go before we reach the trial, but I promise that it'll be worth the wait.**_

 _ **In the mean time, was there anything you liked about this chapter? Anything you hated? Is there anything you want to see in a future chapter?**_

 _ **P.S: Coming next chapter: The Juggernaut!**_


	12. Unstoppable!

"Shit man, get that loot in the truck, quick!" A stereotypical, run-of-the-mill thug, dressed in a classic black leather biker's jacket and ripped jeans said as he and three others dressed just like him bolted from behind an electronics store. All three of them where carrying something different. The leader carried a large television, the second carried a desktop computer and the third held two gaming consoles. They where making their way towards a ready-and-waiting getaway pickup truck, which was already filled with obviously stolen items from other 'targets'.

They managed to get the Television and computer loaded before Peter landed on the roof of the truck, with his arms crossed in a very mocking manner.

"I guess you guys are the reason I always had to leave my backpack at the front of the store, huh?" he chuckled as the three men, plus their getaway driver, exchanged nervous glances with one another. "I mean sure, I guess I could have always worn a fanny-pack, or carried a purse instead. No one ever asked about those. Now," he continued as he hopped down so that he was eye-level with the crooks. "Are you guys going to comply nicely and return all the stuff that you just stole? Or am I gonna have to drag your sorry punk asses back in there?" As he spoke, he noticed one of the crooks trying to subtly pick up a crowbar from the back of the truck. He didn't say anything, however, and just waited to see how things where going to unfold.

"Fuck you!" one of the crooks snapped, as one of his companions reached into the back of the truck for something. Only to disappear into a cloud of thick, purple smoke.

The man re-appeared a mere second later, three feet in the air. He dropped to the ground with a slight scream, mixed with a loud groan as he recovered from his ordeal, as Kurt Wagner appeared beside Peter, with a gleeful grin stretched across his face.

"You where right Spider-Man," Kurt chuckled, "'Zat was a lot of fun."

"Damn straight," Peter replied as the thug got off the ground, and joined his friends, who where forming a semi-circle around the two Avengers. "And it's about to get a lot more entertaining soon enough."

"I agree," Kurt nodded, "I'll take the T-shirt one and sweater one? You take the two with jackets?"

"You two freaks ain't gonna be taken none of us!" the lead thug growled as he picked up a lead pipe. "Bet we'll be nice an' rich once we put you down!"

"Bet da Kingpin's gonna be lovin' us!" the man with the T-shirt hollered. "Bet I'll even make that Spider-Wore go and-" Peter cut him off by webbing his mouth shut with nothing but a flick of his wrist. A mere second later, the real fight began as the leader took a mean swing at Kurt, who vanished and re-appeared behind him to deliver a quick kick between the man's shoulders.

Meanwhile Peter slipped in between two of the would-be robbers, ducking under both of their thrown punches and pulling one of them into his extended elbow, striking his mid-section.

"Mind saving that punk for me?" Peter asked his team-mate, who was busy teleporting the man with his mouth webbed shut through the air, dropping him to the ground soon after.

"Sure," Kurt replied as Peter kicked the lead pipe out of the leader's hand, breaking bones in the process. One of the other men quickly produced a knife, but soon found his arm entangled in Kurt's prehensile tail, which soon sent him flying headfirst into a wall.

As the scuffle progressed, both Avengers became aware that they had drawn a small crowd. Some of whom where filming the events unfolding before them. Which meant two things. One: they had to keep things contained, and make sure there where no firearms in play. And two: they had to make sure they looked good doing it. One little slip up, especially on Kurt's part, could lead to them being portrayed as the bad-guys by the non-biased media outlets in the city.

"Heads up, web-head!" Kurt announced as he dropped the potty-mouthed thug to the ground, right in front of Peter. He grabbed the man, and quickly ripped the webbing away from his mouth.

"What the fuck is that-" the man growled as he tried to pull out of Peter's grip. Which was impossible to do.

"Watch it!" Peter quipped as he slapped the man in the back of the head, and pointed towards the crowd, which had a few small children in it. "There are impressionable minds listening!" he said as he webbed the man's hands together, forming a pseudo-set of handcuffs. He put the man on the ground and triggered an automated call to the police, telling them where to pick up the men before turning his attention to the crowd, while Kurt remained behind him a little bit, shirking the spotlight. Using his webbing, Peter formed a makeshift police line, keeping the crowd at bay as he strutted forward for the inevitable sea of attention he was going to get.

He just hoped that at least some of it was positive.

As was expected, there was a tidal wave of pictures being taken of him, and of Kurt to a lesser extent. Though the latter did his best to avoid the cameras, while still remaining visible. So Peter took the brunt of the attention. Which was something he wasn't very comfortable doing usually. In fact he hated it outright.

But the attention was fuelling the sales of Avengers merchandise. Which was helping him get ready to pay off a studio apartment in a few weeks. Which was, in turn, keeping his mind off of other recent developments. Developments which had dogged his every footstep for the past two weeks. And which he knew deep down would dominate his next few months. So he did his best to quell thoughts of the upcoming trial and focus on the people in front of him.

It took quite a while for the police to arrive. Time which he had to answer and dodge awkward questions, pose for pictures and avoid the occasional thrown object before he heard the sirens off in the distance, coming ever closer. As soon as the would-be criminals where in proper handcuffs, and being stowed away in the back of two cruisers, the two Avengers where soon on their way to the rooftop of a nearby building.

"And you do this every day?" Kurt shrugged as both he and Peter took a seat on the ledge. During the fight, it seemed as though Kurt had taken a blow to his shoulder, which was already showing signs of bruising.

"Most days," Peter replied as he whipped out his phone, scrolling through his notifications. "Hey, check it out. We're already trending locally," he said as he saw a blip from the Avengers social media page. He made the decision to avoid the comments of the accompanying video, however. Those tended to be extremely toxic. And not just towards the Mutant Avengers, either. Just toxic in general.

"Why?" Kurt asked him, "Seems exhausting to do all the time."

"It is," Peter replied with an honest nod. He looked out over the city before him and let out a small sigh. Pretty much everyone he told about his crime-stopping habits had their own opinion about it. He was certain Jessica was worried he was going to wind up getting shot eventually. A few of the other Avengers called it a 'fruitless endeavour', because they thought he was trying to stop all the crime in the city by himself. Steve had given his vocal support, and Jubilee had actually joined him on a few rounds. "But wouldn't it be horrible of me to not do anything when I can?" he asked.

"Well yes," the furred Mutant agreed, "but still...it seems like a lot of work for one person."

"Not really," Peter said, having fully expected this response. "My grandfather had a saying. He said that if everyone lays one brick, you can build a wall in one day. So this is my proverbial brick." he finished with a slight shrug. "I figure that if I keep this up, eventually others are going to start sometime. And soon enough we're gonna have a sort of anti-crime wave on our hands."

"Hopefully," Kurt replied as the two of them gazed off into the distance, across the city. "But I wonder-" he was cut off by a loud _Bang_ coming from somewhere in the downtown area. It was loud enough to get them both to stand up almost immediately, as they got ready to jump back into the action.

...xxXxx...

The room only darkened for a fraction of a second, yet the hairs on Tony Stark's back stood up. He knew exactly what was about to happen. It was a sort of calling card, after all.

Without even acknowledging his new guest, he reached over to his phone, and clicked 'dial', reaching out to Pepper, who answered almost immediately.

"Hello?" she asked, "Grandpa? Is everything-?"

"Go do a couple flybys over the city," he instructed her.

"What?" she replied with, "What? Why?"

"Do it," he said, more firmly this time. "Now." Pepper seemed to let out long sigh before she ended the call. He hoped that she would do as he told her too, because the Mansion was currently the most dangerous place in all of New York City. And quite possibly the most dangerous place in the entire country.

"Hello Stark," an all-to-familiar voice said smugly as Tony turned around in his chair. In the darkest corner of the room stood Nick Fury, the director of the worldwide peacekeeping force known as _S.H.I.E.L.D._ An organization that did it's job so well that very few people where even aware that it existed. Unfortunately Tony was one of those people who did know. "It's been a long time since we had a talk like this. I missed them."

"Go to hell Fury," Tony snapped back as he stared the African-American man down with steely eyes. The same eyes that could cow anyone who dared cross him. Except Fury.

"Is that anyway to treat the man who handed you a Super-Soldier on a silver platter?" Fury chuckled as he paced in a semi-circle around Tony.

"It is the way to treat the man who hid a super-soldier from the world," Tony replied as he tapped his cane on the floor, and stood up. "and who corners an old man in his home with his lackey's watching?" he said, indicating towards the woman standing behind Fury, who was trying to hide in the shadows. "What's the matter? Too afraid to come after me without a couple of attack-dogs?"

"I don't need any help getting rid of you," Fury replied with a smug smirk. He then made a show of removing his gun holster and placing it on the table between the two of them. "I think time will take care of that little problem soon enough for my tastes."

"Then have you come to pay your respects?" Tony snapped back.

"For you? Never," Fury replied with a smug look on his face. "No, I'm here for a different reason. National security. The Alderyce trial-"

"The President's worried that Mutant Extremists will make some show of force in the weeks leading up to the trial, isn't he?" Tony interrupted, earning a small pause from Fury, and a slightly audible gasp from his companion.

"You don't sound surprised," Fury said, once he regained his composure. "Then again, why would you be. I'm sure you've got the White House bugged. Probably _S.H.I.E.L.D._ as well, am I correct?"

"You are," Tony nodded as he leaned heavily on his cane. "The Avengers won't be working for you. Not this time."

"And here I thought you set out to save the world?" Fury smirked, "or is that whole comic-book tagline spiel a load of shit?"

"It's real enough for me," was Tony's reply as he indicated for Fury to follow him out into the hallway. "You know full well that I don't trust you, Fury." Tony said as the two of them walked down the hallway, with Nick's red-headed assassin following close behind. "With some very good reasons."

"You have as much reason to trust me as I have reason to trust you," Fury rebuked as they neared the vault in which Tony had stored a number of very dangerous items and artifacts from the rest of the world. Only a handful of people even knew that the vault even existed, as he hadn't even show it to every Avenger yet. There where a few he was still uncertain if he could fully trust with the knowledge of it's contents. "Considering the fact that I _know_ you have at least three devices in there capable of levelling a city block," he said as he flicked his head towards the vault's hidden door. "And two members of your team present national security risks."

"While that may be true," Tony nodded, "It won't change the fact that we don't work for the likes of you. The Avengers _will_ keep an eye out for any potential Mutant extremists. But not under your orders. And," he said with a wry smirk, "you've got a lot of nerve talking about national security risks Nick. Especially with that little plot of land in Roswell. And the one off of Alkali Lake." There was a long pause where Tony and Nick stared one another down, daring the other to make a move. In the end, Tony won out once Fury turned his back sharply and exited the room, defeated.

...xxXxx...

"You know that everyone's staring at us, right?" Jubilee said as she glanced around the small outdoor cafe table at the other members of her team. All of whom where dressed in their very brightly coloured 'Avengers' Uniforms.

"I think that that's the point," Jean replied as she took a small sip of coffee. "Be outside. Get seen. Be approachable and ready for action at the drop of a hat. That kind of thing." Steve, the only other member of their party, at least for the moment, nodded his head in agreement. "Though," she said as she did a quick mental scan of the surrounding area, discovering just how many people where staring at them, and how many of them had less-than-virtuous thoughts. "I do wish this costume wasn't so skin-tight."

"But isn't that the reason you're one of the most popular?" Jubilee shot back with a wry grin. "Skintight costume-wearing redhead Milf-type?"

"What's a _Milf?"_ Steve asked.

"You don't want to know," Jean told him, trying to hide the smile behind her face as she 'heard' the Captain's mental confusion. It was rather adorable just how innocent he was. She turned her gaze back to her former Student and continued with, "and I'd like to think that my merchandise is selling well because of my winning personality traits and heroic deeds. Did you read that article that _Mutant underground_ did on us?"

"What's-?" Steve began to say.

"Small-time pro-mutant website," Jubilee answered, before he could finish his question. "Yeah, I read it. Pretty good stuff. Much better than the crap that the _Bugle_ puts out about the team as a whole."

"I like the _Daily_ _Bugle,"_ Steve shrugged as he sipped his coffee.

"Because they never say a word against you," Jubilee quipped, tapping her fingers against the table and looking over her shoulder as she spoke. "The editor's not a complete moron. You're the only one of us he's not going to touch...or else the whole world will crucify him."

"The comics are good at least," was his response. Their conversation was cut short by the approach of three young girls. By Jean's estimation they where no older than fifteen or sixteen. All of them appeared to be completely normal high-school girls. Though Jean was fairly sure that at least one of them was hiding something, even without using her telepathy.

All three looked extremely nervous, and kept their eyes low to the ground, save for quick, nervous upward glances. The girl on the left was the most guilty of this, and her eyes where mostly trained on Jean. But the telepath didn't say a word of this, and let the three girls make the first move.

"Uhh..." the shortest of the girls said nervously, after being shoved forward by her two friends. Her quiet attitude was actually rather adorable, and welcome, compared to the kind of attention she usually got from older 'fans'. "Hi?" the girl blurted quickly, blushing with embarrassment.

"Hi," Jubilee smiled, as all three Avengers stared back at the young fans. "Can we help you?" she said with a cocked eyebrow, and a mischievous grin.

"uhh...we're uhh..." the second girl, the tallest of the three, replied, trying to take the lead of the conversation from her friend. All around them, Jean could see people turning their attention to the scene as it unfolded. Some people chuckled in amusement. Others groaned or whispered among themselves as one of them, the one who Jean suspected was hiding something, toyed with a phone in her hands. "we where wondering if...if we could uh..."

"Take a picture with us, right?" Jean asked with a warm smile. All three girl's faces lit up like Christmas trees with a mixture of excitement and more embarrassment. It wasn't the first time she'd been asked this question, and it _definitely_ wasn't the first time for Steve. She wasn't quite sure about Jubilee, though. "Well get over here," she said with a wave of her hand, indicating that they could come forward.

Of course all three where more than eager to do just that, taking up positions between the three Avengers as the girl with the phone tried to get all six of them in frame. Her efforts where in vain, as there where simply too many of them. But Jean had a solution to that. "Do you mind?" she asked the dark-skinned girl with the phone.

The girl nodded eagerly, and handed Jean her smartphone. Jean used a trick she'd learned a while ago, and levitated the phone into the air with her telekinetic powers. With her extended reach she was able to get all six of them in-frame, and provide the girls with a 'super-selfie' that they'd never forget.

"Woah," one of the girls exclaimed as all three examined the picture together. "Kam, you gotta put this on your profile!" the three girls quickly scampered away, though one did look back at them quickly.

"-anyways," Jean said, resuming their conversation from before. "I thought you said that Peter and Kurt where on their way?"

"Well that's what Peter told me, at least," Jubilee replied, not quite able to hide the slight blush in her cheeks. "He texted me back twenty minutes ago, saying that they where on their way. Something must be keeping them."

"Probably," Jean agreed, _because otherwise he'd be tripping over his own webs to get here,_ she thought with a slim smile. She hadn't told anyone, but she'd caught a glimpse into Peter's mind just as he himself was remembering seeing Jubilee strip out of her wet clothing. At first she'd been furious about how he was seemingly objectifying her young protege. But then she'd watched in amusement as he tried to quench that memory, despite the fact that he was thoroughly enjoying it. And after a brief conversation with Jessica on the subject, she was able to verify Peter's more chivalrous, yet amusing stance.

"Maybe he made other plans in the meantime?" Steve offered with a simple shrug. "He said he's looking for an apartment. Maybe he found one he likes?"

"Na," Jubilee said with a shake of her head. "He told me yesterday he found a nice place already. The guy who owns the building is apparently _thrilled_ to have a celebrity/superhero living in the building. Wish I'd be so lucky," she huffed. Although Jubilee hadn't said anything yet, Jean knew full well she was more than likely going to be kicked out of her own place soon enough. And no one was too keen on renting out to a known Mutant, even if they where an Avenger.

"Well at least there's going to be one place for you to crash," Jean replied with a subtle smirk, trying to raise the young girl's spirits slightly. Looking just past Jubilee's shoulder, Jean caught sight of what looked like another adoring fan, this one a middle-aged Asian woman with a trim, fit build. The two locked eyes for a moment, and Jean could actually feel the hairs standing up on the back of her neck. The same sensation she always had around other telepaths.

She was just about to get up and approach the woman when she caught sight of something more pressing.

A car flying through the air.

On pure instinct, Jean 'grabbed' the car while simultaneously pushing herself, the other Avengers, and anyone else in close proximity out of harms way. It took her a great amount of effort to accomplish that feat. In fact she knew that it would have been impossible for her until after she had really started training herself a few weeks back.

As the dust settled, Jean turned to see what had caused the car to go flying. Through the chaos she could see a massive, bulging shape coming towards them. At first she thought it was some sort of mangled vehicle. But it was a _person._ A mountain of a man. Easily twice Thor's size. And he looked as though he had enough muscle to match.

"Fan out!" Steve roared, as he pulled his shield from where it rested on his back, readying himself for a fight. "Keep him contained," he said, addressing them directly before he directed his attention to the behemoth of a man. "Sir, stand down now! Stand down, and this doesn't have to get any uglier than it already is."

" _HAHA!_ " the behemoth bellowed, slapping his one knee in amusement. "You really think you can stop me?" the man chuckled as he slammed his fist into his open palm. "This gonna be fun!" he said with a sadistic smile before he began to charge forward, slowly increasing his speed until he reached a full-blown sprint, and headed straight for Steve. Jean desperately wanted to pull the Captain out of the way, but she refrained from doing so. She knew he had a plan in mind, she just didn't know what it was just yet. But she knew what her part to play was.

She pressed her fingers to her temples and sent out a psychic suggestion to everyone in a one-mile radius, nudging them to get as far away as they could, until the situation was resolved. The trick seemed to work for the most part, as everyone, except for a few would-be reporters began to run away. And even those who stayed shrank back some.

The behemoth of a man collided with Steve, who absorbed the brunt of the impact with his shield. The Star-Spangled Avenger was still forced back, however, as the man pushed him with one hand like an Adult wrestling a toddler. Then there was a flurry of movement as Steve rolled into his opponent's momentum to deliver a cracking blow with the edge of his shield. However, his strike merely bounced off the larger man's thick helmet.

A mere second later, Steve was thrown to the side by a massive, sweeping blow. Jean saved him from the worst of it though, as she caught him before he could fly through a glass window. Thankfully he seemed to have blocked most of the man's strike with his shield. Which of course spoke volumes about just how strong their opponent was.

"ain't nothin' gonna stop the _Juggernaut!"_ the man bellowed gleefully as he smashed his fists together. "an' after I deal with you three, ain't no one gonna mess with me! Ha!" he continued as he charged forward again, heading towards Jean and the still-dazed Captain America. She did the only thing she could think of, and launched herself and Steve up into the air, out of the man's path of destruction. She watched as their adversary plowed into the interior of a cafe before coming to a halt. _Well I think the name 'Juggernaut' it well-deserved!_ She thought to herselfas she set herself and Steve down on the ground.

Of course, she immediately regretted that decision, as the 'Juggernaut' was able to turn far more easily than she would have anticipated, and began to make a second beeline straight for them.

Once more, Jean shot herself and Steve apart, but this time it was completely unnecessary, as a beam of pure energy slashed through the pavement, forcing the Juggernaut to divert his charge, out of it's way. Jean guessed that this had more to do with the blinding light than it did any sense of danger.

"sorry I'm late to the party," Pepper called out as she landed next to Steve, decked out in a full suit of Iron Man Armour. "What'd I miss?" she quipped nonchalantly.

"Oi bitch!" the Juggernaut shouted, causing all four Avengers to turn their heads to face him again. "Catch!" he said, as he tossed a car, which still had a screaming family trapped inside. Jean did just that, taking extra care to cushion the impact for those inside. However, this effort caused her to lose focus just long enough for the Juggernaut to gain an advantage.

...xxxXxxx...

The minute Jean caught the car Pepper knew they where in some serious trouble. The car-toss had merely been a distraction intended to momentarily occupy one of their biggest guns. At least long enough to kill her before moving on to the other two.

So Pepper did everything she could to make sure that didn't happen. She blasted forward and aimed a repulsor blast straight for the Juggernaut's eyes. It wasn't enough to hurt him seriously, but it was more than enough to get him to momentarily raise his arms in front of his eyes, exposing his chest for her to attack with everything she had.

Increasing her thrusters by fifty percent, she slammed into the Juggernaut with her shoulder. The impact shook her to her very core as she tried in vain to lift him into the air, where he would be most vulnerable. But he didn't even budge.

"Oh shit," was all she could say before two massive fists slammed down into her back, hitting her harder than anything she'd ever felt before. The blow was so powerful that her body made a small crater in the road. Several warning lights flashed on her heads-up display, telling her exactly where the bruises where going to form, and where the armour's integrity had been compromised.

She didn't wait for the second blow to hit, instead she flew forward as fast as she could, missing death by a hair's breadth, both thanks to the speed in her thrusters, and an exploding rock, thrown by Jubilee, that bounced off the Juggernaut's shoulder. As he shook off his momentary stupor, pepper unleashed the full power of her suit's arc reactor on him. An act which actually forced the Juggernaut back a few inches, before he dashed to the right. Pepper tried to follow him with the energy beam, but she realized that if she hit the building behind him, the uni-beam would slice through it like a hot knife through butter. And that could cause it to collapse entirely. There was too much potential for harm, and she ceased the attack.

Which was exactly what the Juggernaut _wanted_ her to do. No sooner had she shut the beam down than he dashed towards her at maximum speed. It took Pepper a few seconds to activate her suits propulsion system, as she had to re-direct some power thanks to the previous beating shed taken. Those few seconds where enough for the Juggernaut to reach up and grab her by the ankle before she could get out of his reach. He swung her around like a rag-doll, smashing her into a car and a fire hydrant before she felt herself being grabbed by an invisible force.

Off to the side, Pepper could see Jean holding her in place with her Telepathy. And even across that distance, she could see that her fellow Avenger was struggling. Luckily, Steve saw too it that she didn't have to struggle for long.

The Juggernaut was too preoccupied with trying to continue and flail Pepper around to notice Steve bursting forward, until it was too late. Before anyone knew it, Steve had tossed his shield right into the Juggernaut's face, hitting him squarely in the only fleshy part of his body that was not protected by heavy armour. The First Avenger then proceeded to aim for the next most vulnerable part of his body: the groin. _That_ blow was enough to get the Juggernaut to loosen his grip enough for Pepper to free herself, and fly to a safe distance. But not before hitting their assailant with a few blasts from her gauntlets, keeping him at bay long enough for Steve to get away.

"This guy's got tough armour," Steve said over their in-ear (or in Pepper's case, in-helmet) transmitters, low enough so that the 'Juggernaut' couldn't hear them. "But he's also extremely stupid. If we can keep him on his back foot fr long enough, we should be able to wear him down and restrain him. Pepper, any E.T.A on backup?"

"Scanning," Pepper replied as she triggered a call for the remaining Avengers to drop whatever they where doing and help out. "Azari and Hank are across the river, it'll take them an hour to get here at best. Jessica is somewhere in Queens, so she'll be here any minute. And it looks like Peter and Kurt are already on their way. No idea where Thor is."

"Great. We can work with that, Jean?" he asked as Pepper circled around their foe, keeping him contained as best as she could while Steve elaborated on his rudimentary plan. "Can you hold him still?"

"No," Jean replied swiftly. "Not for more than a few seconds, Cap. He's too strong."

"Can you put him too sleep?" Pepper asked as she once more corralled the Juggernaut with repulsor blasts. Though she noticed that this time he was less weary of her attack. It was almost as if her beams where becoming less effective against him as he ran.

"I can't get in his head," Jean said, "must be his armour...it's blocking my Telepathy somehow. _Maybe_ if I could touch his head I might be able too..."

"But we can't get you that close yet," Steve surmised. "Not until our heavy-hitters arrive."

"Let's just hope we're not street-pizza by then," Jubilee quipped nervously as the four of them encircled the Juggernaut, who stood still and let out a hearty laugh. Which told Pepper that they where in a _lot_ of trouble.

The Avengers became a blur of motion as the coordinated their movements perfectly to attack the much larger foe. Steve and Pepper moved to either side of him, drawing his attention away from Jean, who hurled a chunk of upturned pavement at him while his back was turned. But what should have been a crippling blow was merely shrugged off by the mountain of a man as he once more broke into a run, heading straight for Steve, who only rolled out of the way at the last second. So the Juggernaut instead plowed through the ground floor of an apartment building, only to come out the other side completely unscathed.

"Don't lose him!" Steve barked, which Pepper took as an order that was meant for her. After all, no one else would be able to catch him in time. So she quickly dashed over to where the Juggernaut had continued his rampage and blasted him in between his shoulder blades as he ran. This time he didn't even seem to flinch as he turned while still running, now coming towards her at an incredible speed. Pepper shot upwards, knowing that he was about to jump. But she severely underestimated just how high he would get, and her heads-up display soon warned her about an almost inevitable impact. She braced herself for a world of pain, but it never came.

Instead, all that came was the distinct smell of sulphuric acid.

"Kurt!" she exclaimed as she realized that she was now a good fifty feet from where she had been previously, and that the demonic-looking Avenger was perched on her shoulders.

"Hello!" he said awkwardly, waving his hand in front of her face-plate. "Did I catch you at a bad time?" he asked playfully, before turning his attention to the commotion below. Both of them watched as Peter Parker swung into the midst of the resumed battle between Juggernaut, Steve, Jean and Jubilee. And not too far behind him, Jessica swooped in close, ready for action. Things where certainly about to get more interesting.

...xxXxx...

"You got any idea what's going on here?" Jessica huffed as she fell into line beside Peter, as he swung towards the centre of the action. All she could see from where they where was a very big man tossing cars at their teammates.

"No, not really," Peter replied mid-swing, "All I saw was an explosion of some sort, so me and Kurt made our way over here."

"Uh-huh," she nodded, "not like you where already heading this way. Didn't you say something about meeting Wondra here after lunch?"

"And Jean and Cap," Peter quipped back at her rather defensively. "Looks like Cap might need some backup," he said as he nodded his head to down below. Jessica followed his gaze, and saw that Steve was indeed trying to out-manoeuvre the large man, who was surprisingly fast for someone so huge. "You think you can give him some while I do a quick sweep and make sure there's no one that needs any help?"

"Sure," she replied with a wry smirk. "I'll do the heavy lifting while you dilly-dally with your Girlfriend!" she said with a flourish, before peeling away from Peter and making a beeline for the spot where Steve had somehow found himself cornered by his opponent. And from the looks of things, he didn't have too many options for an escape route, except one that she could provide. Pressing her finger to her ear, she was able to speak with him over the team-wide communicator in order to relay her plan. "On my count, Cap," she said steadily as she did the mental math, calculating angles and reaction time, "jump off the roof of that pickup truck on your left as high as you can."

"What?" Steve replied as he continued to back away from his opponent's heavy swings, "are you sure?"

"Yes," she said as she got ever closer, "on my mark. Three. Two. One!" he did just as she had suggested, and rolled under the man's thick arms before breaking into a dead sprint and leaping onto the roof of the truck, then bounding off a second time to a surprising height. She still managed to catch him with no problems, and she even managed to evade the large man's swiping hands as he tried to knock her out of the sky.

She did have some trouble when he threw a stop-sign at her, though. _That_ was enough to force her down to the ground in a heap. But she sprung back to her feet the very second she felt the ground begin to tremble beneath her. "What the hell is this guy's story!" Jessica shouted as she dived out of the man's way, narrowly avoiding injury by a hair's breadth.

"Dunno," Jubilee replied as she sprinted over to her side. "He's big. He's strong. He's tough. And he calls himself _The Juggernaut."_

"Fitting name," Jessica nodded as they helped Steve get to his feet. "Any clue how to stop him?"

"Well my plan was to wait for Thor to arrive," Jubilee quipped nervously.

"We can't," Steve panted heavily. Jessica watched as he winced slightly while in mid-breath. A telltale sign of broken ribs, at the very least. "we have to end this _now,_ or else someone will get hurt. I think we're lucky there haven't been any casualties yet."

"I agree," Pepper said as flew circles around the Juggernaut, blasting him with her repulsors, with little effect. "We can't keep this up forever. I know my armour can't take another beating like that again. And Thor's still M.I.A at the moment. So, any suggestions?"

"I got something," Peter suggested as he swung above their heads, helping Pepper distract the Juggernaut as best as he could. "Not much, but I think it _might_ be able to hold him down long enough for our needs," he continued as he swung around a lamp-post. Jessica's stomach lurched violently as she watched him narrowly avoid getting turned into street-pizza by the Juggernaut. "But I'm gonna need you guys to hold him off for a few seconds." He paused as he landed on top of a street-sign and reached for something on his belt. And he leapt off just before that same sign crumpled under the weight of a massive fist. "And Wondra, how's your throwing arm?"

"What?" Jubilee stuttered incredulously, "what am I supposed to throw at him? A rock? What good will-"

"Throw this," Peter quipped as he sailed overhead. Something small and metallic flew from his palm, and Jessica caught it before it hit the ground. It was one of Peter's web-cartridges. And Jessica started to understand his plan. With only a few strings of webbing, Peter could stop a moving car. So it wasn't unreasonable to think that a full cartridge would stop the behemoth dead in his tracks. Acting fast, Jessica passed the cartridge into Jubilee's hands before taking off after Peter. Pepper and Steve fell into line behind them as they swarmed the Juggernaut with everything they had, from every possible angle until they managed to get him to turn around.

"Now!" Steve roared, as Jessica watched as Jubilee reared her arm back, emitted a tiny blue glow from her palm, then side-armed the tiny cartridge right at the Juggernaut as the remaining Avengers backed away quickly. The second that the tiny metal casing bounced against the man's thick armour, it exploded into a thick, gooey mess that encompassed a ten-foot radius. Luckily everyone had managed to retreat to a safe distance.

" _Jesus..."_ the Juggernaut muttered as he struggled against the sticky blob that had enveloped him. To his credit, he actually managed to move a few inches. An impressive feat, given the webbing's tensile strength. "When I get outta this...!"

"You'll be long gone from here," Kurt quipped with a wide grin stretched across his face.

"We'll send you postcard," Peter remarked, earning a high-five from Jubilee. Again, the Juggernaut struggled against his restraints, moving just a little farther this time. But still not enough to be of any concern to them.

"How long until the feds arrive?" Jessica asked, checking the time on a nearby billboard screen. "I d have plans this afternoon that I'd rather not miss."

"You're all dead meat!" the Juggernaut spat, "I'll-" Peter webbed his mouth shut before he could complete his next sentence. Despite the set back, the Juggernaut continued to struggle against his restraints.

"MRD and S.H.I.E.L.D officials should be here within ten minutes," Pepper replied as she lifted her faceplate, revealing a bloody nose and a swollen lip. Seeing that neither of those where nothing to worry about, Jessica moved on to who she assumed to be the most injured member of the team, Steve.

"Lift your left arm, Cap," she practically ordered.

"I'm fine," he replied, trying to hide the obvious pain he was in. His breaths where short and ragged, and he seemed to be keeping his right wrist rather still.

"Lift it," she repeated, more intensely this time. "Or I'll lift it for you."

"This isn't really necessary..." Steve said with a shake of his head. "I'm fine. We have a mission to accomplish and-" he took in a sharp breath as Jessica went against his wishes and slipped her hand against his side. Even through his heavy uniform she could feel the uneven lumps that confirmed a part of her hypothesis.

"You have at least _four_ broken ribs on this side," she replied strictly as she ran her hand along the other side of his chest. "And two more on this side. And," she said as she hoisted his right arm into the air, levelling his wrist with her eyes. She only needed to watch him wince in pain once more before saying, "and that's definitely broken," she continued as she watched out fo the corner of her eye as Peter and Jubilee separated themselves from the group a little bit. Just enough for them to share a quick, private conversation. The wry smile that crossed her lips soon turned to a look of horror, however, as she heard a great _snap!_ As the Juggernaut broke free of his web-restraints entirely.

With one meaty fist he knocked Pepper aside, sending her flying into Jean before breaking into a dead run in Peter's direction.

Jessica moved without even thinking, blasting off of the ground at full speed, easily overtaking the Juggernaut and knocking both Peter and Jubilee out of his path before something struck her from behind, and everything went completely black.

...xxXxx...

"Listen," Peter said, ignoring the shivers going down his spine as he quietly led Jubilee away from the rest of the team. He figured that it was better to say things right then, when everyone was still distracted, rather then back at the Mansion, where they'd be subject to intense ribbing from the others. "I was uh...wondering...if we could _talk?_ "

"Well no point in asking now," Jubilee quipped back with a small grin. "you already started doing that. And yeah," she shrugged as soon as they where a suitable distance away from the others. "I uh...wanted to talk to you as well. But you go first," she insisted.

"Okay," he nodded, somewhat nervously. "I uh...was wondering if maybe sometime you and I could go... go and get a bite to eat or go to the movies or go get a bite to eat... _and_ I just messed that up really bad!" he said as he buried his face in his palm for a brief moment, wishing that he could turn invisible right then and there. "I'm sorry, just..."

"Yeah, yeah," Jubilee replied as she flashed a grin his way. For a moment he found himself being drawn into her deep brown eyes.

But in the next moment he found himself being violently pushed aside by some unseen force. Both he and Jubilee went rolling into the dirt though he managed to recover fairly quickly from it. But not quick enough to save his sister from being punched in the gut by a man five times her size. He struck a second time before Peter could get to his feet.

But before he could raise his fist again, Peter drove all his strength, all of his momentum and all of his willpower into one solid kick that did more to stop the Juggernaut than anything Steve, Pepper or Jean had accomplished. Because he wasn't holding back.

He could feel himself becoming a blur of motion as he struck the Juggernaut from every conceivable angle. In a matter of seconds Peter had managed to strike his knees, wrists, elbows, nose, ribs and chin. He briefly thought about filling the man's lungs with webbing until he suffocated, but he realized that wouldn't be worth it. He wanted him to bleed. To hurt.

A stream of Jubilee's fireworks flew over his shoulder as he prepared to sling-shot himself straight into the Juggernaut's abdomen. Her timing was perfect, as the Juggernaut covered his eyes, giving Peter a very clear target to drive home into with all his might. The force of which knocked the Juggernaut back a few inches, but he recovered faster than Peter had anticipated, and grabbed him by the ankle before Peter could properly react.

With a swing, Peter was tossed aside, but not before he caught a glimpse of an electronic device at the base of the man's skull, partially covered by his helmet and shoulder armour.

Getting back on his feet, Peter made a beeline for the Juggernaut's back as he engaged Steve and Pepper with a series of wide swings, as Jean held her ground. Peter assumed that she was trying to use her telekinetic powers to hold their foe in place, to little effect. At best she was just slowing him down. Peter landed on his back and made a grab for the device, which was no bigger than a smartphone, and pulled it free, along with several wires that where _somehow_ wired into the Juggernaut's spine.

The Juggernaut roared with pain, and the hairs on the back of Peter's neck stood straight up as he realized that he had made an extremely large error. The Juggernaut turned even faster than before and slammed Peter to the ground like a rag-doll into Steve and Pepper, knocking them both off of their feet and into a bundle of limbs. All three where helpless as they watched the Juggernaut raise his arms over his head, ready to beat all three of them into paste.

Only Jean stood in his way, casting a powerful telekinetic shield over all four of them. But Peter knew it wouldn't hold up against such a barrage. He grimaced in agony as one of the colossal fists slammed into the shield, forcing Jean to her knees from the straining effort to hold her defences. When the second fist struck, Jean fell to the ground entirely.

"Not so strong after all, eh?" the Juggernaut grinned as he stood over the four Avengers, seemingly triumphant as Peter, Steve and Pepper all grabbed at his arms, hoping to pin him to the ground with their combined strength as Kurt appeared on top of the Juggernaut's head, and began clawing at his eyes. "Pest!" the Juggernaut roared as he whirled around, tossing Peter and Steve aside, and kicking Pepper away before trying to grab Kurt, who disappeared in a huff of smoke, and re-appeared beside Peter, completely out of breath.

"We can't stop him," Kurt huffed as he helped Peter to his feet. "we are being cut to pieces here!"

"Yeah," Peter replied as he sprinted to Jessica's side. She still lay on the ground where the Juggernaut had dropped her. She was still breathing, and stirred lightly to his touch, but he dared not move her, out of fear that he'd dislodge something that had been broken by the Juggernaut's blow. That same feeling of pain and anger swelled up inside of him once more as he watched the Juggernaut break into a sprint, chasing Pepper, who flew only a few feet off of the ground in front of him. They needed to end the fight _now._

He got back to his feet and swung back into the thick of things, shooting balls of webbing at the Juggernaut, knowing that they would do a little more than hinder his movements briefly. But he hoped that it would buy enough time for the rest of his teammates to figure out a better plan.

The fight soon changed direction as the Juggernaut charged towards the still-prone Jean. Both Peter and Pepper tried to re-direct the Juggernaut's rampage, to no avail. And Kurt was nowhere to be seen, so Peter couldn't rely on him to get Jean out of the way. He had to do it himself. He bounded off of the Juggernaut's shoulders and sprinted towards his fallen teammate, knowing he had only seconds to act.

With one hand he scooped her up over his shoulder and continued his retreat, with the Juggernaut hot on his tail. He leapt over cars and off of walls in an attempt to gain enough momentum to break into a full swing. Normally he would have no problem jumping into the air and swinging around, but he had to hold Jean down with one arm, and one of his ankles was on fire, which meant his ability to jump was slightly hampered. This proved to be too much for Peter to keep up for long, and eventually he was swatted aside like a pesky fly. He was, however, able to save himself from the worst of the impact by turning his body at the last second and only being clipped by the Juggernaut's fists.

Spinning with the momentum, Peter managed to land on is feet not far from the Juggernaut. But a cold chill ran down his spine as he realized that he was effectively trapped between a building and this impossibly strong foe. The only way he would be able to escape is if he left Jean behind, which he wasn't willing to do. He desperately tried to come up with an escape plan, as he felt Jean stirring against his back.

The Juggernaut swung, and Peter did the only thing he could think of. He jumped at the last second, and 'ran' up the side of the man's arm in the split second that he was distracted. He gave the Juggernaut a quick kick to the face before leaping off and swinging away to a safer distance. He landed right beside Steve as Jean regained full consciousness.

"...what happened...?" she moaned as Peter set her down. She was clearly still suffering the effects of overtaxing her powers.

"We-" Peter began to reply, only to watch as the Juggernaut came crashing towards them. And this time they had no time to react. No time to do anything but pray that something would stop him. Jean weakly raised her arms to try and cast a shield as Peter and Steve dove out of the way, dragging Jean with them. It was a futile effort. The Juggernaut was simply to large and too fast for them to evade this time.

But suddenly there was an intense, searing heat that washed over them. It was accompanied by the most blinding light that Peter had ever witnessed. It was so intense that his lenses immediately darkened as much as they where designed to, and he was still forced to shut his eyes and turn away. The light made a sound that Peter could only describe as being the most high-intensity laser in the world. And whatever it was, it clearly had significant mass, as it managed to knock the Juggernaut off of his feet and send him flying twenty feet across the street.

As soon as his vision cleared, Peter beamed around, looking for the source of the attack. But Jean found it first.

" _JUBILEE!"_ she cried, as Peter snapped his head around. Jubilee stood in the middle of the street, with her hands outstretched. Smoke appeared to be rising off of her body. Jean, Peter and Steve rushed to her side as she began to visibly sway on the spot, before falling over completely. Luckily Steve managed to catch her before she could hit the ground. And before she lost complete consciousness, Peter caught a brief glimpse of blazing orange in her eyes.

"She's still breathing," Steve re-assured them as several government vehicles pulled onto the scene. Twenty heavily-armed men rushed out and surrounded the still-prone Juggernaut and placed some sort of restraining collar around his neck. Pepper landed beside them as Kurt helped Jessica hobble over, all three of them looking extremely perplexed about what had just happened.

"Please tell me Hank's on his way?" Jean coughed as she wiped the hair out of Jubilee's face.

"He's on-route to the Mansion," Pepper replied quickly. "Thor and Azari are on their way here. You guys are in pretty rough shape. I'll stay here and the three of us will handle cleanup." Nobody was willing to argue with her suggestion, and they all silently headed over to the auto-piloted aircraft that Tony had sent for them, which would take them back to the mansion in only a few minutes time.

...xxXxx...

Hank McCoy's day had certainly taken a most interesting turn. He'd gone from having a nice, quiet reunion with an old college friend to being told that the Avengers where fighting a nearly unstoppable opponent to acting as physician for almost half of the team. Normally that task would fall to Jessica Parker, but she was currently indisposed.

"You're fine," he said as he finished properly bandaging Steve's wrist, "just keep this on for tonight. I'm sure your body will have healed by the morning." he continued as he gave the Captain a friendly pat on the shoulder, before turning his attention to the rest of the team.

For the most part, they where unharmed. A few bruises and sprained joints where nothing to worry about. So Hank moved on into the next room, where his more pressing cases lay.

On one side of the room Jessica lay stretched out on a bed, with an ice-pack on her stomach. Apparently she'd received a rather nasty punch to the stomach from a rather strong opponent, which had shattered half of her ribs, and punctured one of her lungs. Thanks to her enhanced regenerative abilities, he knew she'd be fine within a couple of days time. But he still wanted to keep an eye on things. And he wanted to keep her close, as a consultant for his other patient.

Jubilee occupied another bed, not far from the one Jessica lay in. Medically, she was completely fine. Her heart rate, breathing and brain activity where all normal. And although the blood tests he was running had failed to yield any results, he doubted he would find anything. Aside from the fact that she was completely unconscious, there was absolutely nothing wrong with her.

As near as he could tell, she wasn't in a coma. To Hank, it looked like she was in an extremely deep sleep, which was all the more puzzling. And, looking over to one of the various machines Stark had provided them, he began to ponder even farther.

Ever since the rest of the Avengers had returned, there had been a strange energy readings coming from one of the devices. Nothing harmful, but still enough of an oddity to warrant his interests. It was well beyond him to understand what exactly was going on. But he knew someone who might be able to help, so he picked up the phone.

Hank just hoped that the man on the other end was in the right mood to help him.

 _ **A/N: Please feel free to leave a review of this chapter telling me if there was anything you liked/didn't like! Also check out my profile and vote on the poll for which characters you'd like to see make appearances in future chapters!**_

 _ **Next Chapter should by out July 1st.**_


	13. Trial by Fire (Part 1)

_**A/N: I know I originally promised that Dr. Strange would be appearing in this chapter. But as I started to write, I realized that his presence was being overshadowed by other characters/events. So I've postponed his 'chapter' for now (but it's still coming!) Until then, I hope this will suffice.**_

To say that things had taken a turn for the worst was a complete understatement. What was supposed to be a relaxing day of open debate about a hot-button issue on a live talk-show had turned into a horrible mess of tangled limbs, thrown objects and hoarse voices. With only three Avengers and a handful of police caught in the middle of it all.

" _Go back to where you fucking came from!"_

" _I'm gonna kick your ass, freak!"_

" _Cop killer!"_

" _Throw em' in a cage!"_

" _Murderers!"_

"That's _enough!"_ Steve shouted as he forcefully separated two brawling men from one another, after they'd come to blows. He kept the two men an arms length apart as he stared them both down. One was a younger man, probably in his first year of College. The other was an older man, easily in his mid-forties and already sporting a bald spot. the younger man now had a swollen, cracked lip, while the older one had a broken nose. And both had a look that told Steve that they where perfectly willing to kill one another. "Easy," Steve continued, while maintaining his stance as the situation around them grew more and more restless. "There's another way of doing this," he said.

"Yeah!" the older man snarled as he gestured tot he side, where a woman and a young boy where huddled behind three Police Officers armed with riot shields, and Thor. There was nothing remarkable about the woman. She appeared to be around the same age as the man. But the boy, who looked no older than ten or eleven, had a white-blue skin tone, and generated an aura of cold air around him. There was no hiding the fact that the boy was clearly a Mutant. "You make sure this little shit stays the hell away from my son!"

"That _thing_ ain't-!" the young man began, only to be cut off by Steve sweeping him aside, out of the way of the older man, who fell to the ground. If Steve hadn't been there, he was sure that someone would have been killed already. "I said-!"

"You shut up!" Steve snapped at the younger man, as a middle aged woman went and kicked the older man in the ribs as he tried to get back up. He stepped in-between her and the older man as Pepper, who had previously been hovering over their heads, providing a lookout, landed in the midst of things in an attempt to keep things under control.

"What I wouldn't give for some backup," Pepper muttered as she raised her hands, preventing the angry mob from surging forward as Steve helped the older man to his feet.

"Well we do have a fair few available," Steve quipped as he prevented the two men from reaching one another once more. "But most of them would be counter-productive to this situation."

"Well I know that," Pepper mused as someone threw a glass bottle, which shattered against her helmet. "It just _sucks,_ you know? The moment we need backup the most is when half the team can't even step outside without risking getting a brick thrown at their head...or shot at. Which, I guess we're lucky hasn't happened to us yet. _God_ I hope my Grandpa can get those remote-piloted suits working soon!"

"Preach," Steve replied as two more people burst forward, trying to make it past the barrier the two of them had made alongside the police. One Officer tried to intercept them, but in doing so, he allowed a stream of people to break through, and overwhelm the rest of his companions, who where either steadily driven back to where Thor stood, or where swallowed by the crowd. All Steve could really do was toss the father behind him as they retreated between two parked police cruisers.

As they fell back, the rioting only grew worse as people became emboldened. They began to crash against the wall of riot shields and Police batons. A volley of rocks soared over their heads. Steve raised his shield to protect himself, while Pepper targeted and blasted as many of the projectiles as she could. And while each and every rock she targeted was turned into dust, there where simply too many for her to handle all at once. And those of them who where un-shielded received the worst of it. A few Officers without body-armour, meant to be escorts more than anything, took direct hits from several rocks and bottles. The family did their best to hunker down behind Thor, who was mostly unaffected by the barrage, save for his growing anger that was made apparent by the way he tapped at the hilt of his hammer.

But the tipping point came when someone in the crowd tossed a Molotov Cocktail into their midst, which shattered against Thor's chest. Though he was clearly not harmed, Steve could see the red in his eyes as he pulled his hammer free from his belt and began walking forward. Sections of the mob suddenly began to retreat at his approach, but some still remained. Either they where completely oblivious to Thor's presence, or they where stubborn enough to try and test him, even as the clouds overhead began to darken.

A sudden flurry of movement to the right caught Steve's eye. Three men approached through the dissipating mob's flank. All of them wore almost identical grey trench-coats. It took Steve a moment to realize what the men where carrying underneath their coats.

Automatic assault rifles.

"Get down!" Steve shouted as he charged towards the men, just as they began to bring their weapons to bear and open fire. Something tore through his side a half-second before he slammed into all three men. A high-pitched squeal filled his ears as he successfully subdued the men, followed by a horrible crash of thunder and lightning.

Ignoring the pain in his side, Steve subdued the three men with ease, knocking them unconscious before turning around to survey the situation. The entire mob had quickly scampered, leaving only Pepper, Thor, the Police and the Young Mutant's family. However, three of the officers, as well as the boy, had all been shot. Thankfully, the gun-toting protesters had been stopped before they could fully raise their weapons, so the Officer's wounds where mostly to the legs. It was the child that worried him the most. He'd taken a bullet to the stomach.

"we've got to get him out of here," one Officer snapped worriedly.

"There's a hospital four blocks away..." Pepper nodded in agreement. "Airlift is inbound in sixty seconds. We'll get him there and-"

"They won't take him," the Father replied with a pant, as he ripped off a portion of his shirt and used it as a makeshift bandage for his bleeding son. "No Hospital will...even if they where willing to operate on him, it'd be dangerous for the staff once word got out."

"we'll take him to the Mansion," Steve said firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder as he continued. "it's probably the safest place for him right now. And we've got top-of-the-line Medical technologies there. Plus a really good Doctor," he said, just as the auto-piloted jet came to a stop over their heads, and lowered an access ramp for them to board. The Family didn't need any persuasion to quickly hop on board, and they where able to take off in less than ten seconds.

...xxXxx...

"You'd think," Gwen Stacey said as she heaved a box from the couch into her arms, "that someone living under their older Sister's roof would have less _stuff."_ she said as she passed Peter by, giving him a wry wink as she did so. Gwen, along with Jessica and Aunt May, where in the process of helping him unload the last of his belongings from a moving van and into his new apartment. And once he was somewhat settled, Peter, Jessica and May would then be heading over to their lawyer's office. Which was the last thing that Peter really wanted to be doing. Especially after the week he'd had already.

The upcoming trial was having an even larger effect on his life than he had anticipated. Already he had been in and out of meetings with the lawyer over the last few days. Mostly just going over things that where bound to come up during the trial. But as an added bonus, there had been a tidal wave of violence both against, and caused by, mutants that had left the Avengers running around ragged with the police, trying to keep the peace and prevent another 'Juggernaut' incident. It didn't really help that they where still down a team member.

The situation with Jubilee was certainly not helping his psyche at all. He'd probably spent just as much time in the infirmary in the past few days as he had out on the streets breaking up fights. He'd even accidentally slept there overnight once. (Which had earned him a good ribbing from Jessica.)

"You would think that," Jessica smirked as she waked past Gwen, carrying a box under each arm, both just as large as the one Gwen struggled to lift. "but you give this guy a half-way decent paycheck and suddenly he loses all financial control."

"Oh he can't be that bad," said Aunt May as she entered the room, carrying a small pile of Peter's books with her, which he planned to eventually put on a shelf. Once he went and bought a shelf, of course. "besides, he works _hard_ for that money! He can spend it on whatever, or _whoever_ he pleases." _Right,_ he thought with a snort, _You'd freak if I really spent it how I want._

"Well Peter," Gwen chuckled, "if you ever want to spend it on me...I'm game!"

"Of course you are, mooch," Peter shot back playfully as he closed the lid on the box he had been sorting through. "You still owe me for that old laptop I gave you three years ago."

"Hey that thing was _hazardous!"_ Gwen replied, feigning attitude as she continued. "You have no idea what kind of depraved stuff I found on there!" she cast a sideways glace at may before finishing with, "half-finished homework and dank memes, that's all, I swear!" Aunt May gave her a half-scathing, half-amused look as she shook her head, and Peter felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. A quick glance at Jessica told him that she'd gotten a message as well.

"Hey why don't you two go and return the moving van?" Jessica asked politely, nudging her head towards the door. "Peter and I can get the rest of this stuff ourselves."

"Are you sure?" Aunt May asked quizzically, as she glanced over at the pile of ten boxes by the door. All of which contained his stuff. "Because..."

"It's fine," Jessica smiled, "just fine. We can handle it," she said as she practically pushed the two of them out the door, and closed it behind them. She set down the boxes she'd been carrying and pressed her ear to the door, obviously trying to hear if they'd actually left yet. After a few seconds of silence, Jessica said as they both pulled out their phones, "I think that must be Hank... _and_ I was right. And..." she paused as they both read the message they'd received.

' _Something's happened. Get down here.'_

...xxXxx...

"No, listen, I just need you to pull a few files for me," Elizabeth said as she paced the length of the room, talking on her cell phone as Wanda approached. The younger girl watched the older woman as she spun on the spot and paced in the other direction. To Wanda, it was somewhat of a shock to see her 'mentor' in such an agitated state. Normally she was calm and collected, like a Master Chess player biding their time. But over the past few days, it seemed as though her nerves where beginning to fray. Especially since she'd gotten back from that botched attempt to break into the avengers Mansion.

And Peitro rubbing it in her face certainly wasn't doing anything to help the mood. It was a miracle that he hadn't been cut to ribbons yet.

"Well yes I _could_ get them myself. But my ways are a lot messier than yours are, Honey. I-" she said as she finally spotted Wanda, and seemingly bit her tongue, cutting her sentence short before she said something that she obviously didn't want Wanda to hear. "I can make you a deal. _If_ you get those documents for me I promise you I can get some good dirt on your favourite Businessman. No," she said with a shake of her head, "No I won't _make_ him confess...that's your job. But I can do a little snooping in his head and find out where they're shipping product. Is that fair? Good. Deal. I'll see you in two weeks," she said before putting the phone down on a nearby table and turning her attention to Wanda with her almost trademarked ice-cold stare. "What?" she said flatly.

"I was hoping-" Wanda began to say.

"For a little more training before your Father gives his briefing this afternoon?" Elizabeth replied with a cocked eyebrow. Wanda nodded intently, eager to learn as much as she could from her mentor in the little time that they had before the 'mission' that her father was so secretive about. "Ah, alright love," Elizabeth said as her cold stare turned into a subtle smirk. She beckoned for Wanda to join her in the centre of the room, which was mostly bare except for a few boxes and a table off to the side.

For a moment, Wanda was puzzled. Usually they sparred in a separate room, which had special mats laid out to prevent injury. _["You won't always get to pick your arena,"]_ Elizabeth said psychically as she strafed around Wanda gracefully. _["A street corner. A restaurant. A train station. I've hit targets in all of them and more. So you need to be ready to-"]_ Wanda cut her off by taking the initiative and hurling one of the boxes at her.

Of course, Elizabeth easily dodged it with ease. She didn't even break her stride. _["Good use of your environment! But the wrench would have been better. It's smaller, easier to throw and has a higher density. Now-"]_ Wanda didn't let her finish as she hurled herself at Elizabeth, trying to catch her off-guard. Or at least, as off-guard as possible. Her first punch was evaded with ease, and her follow-up was easily caught in the older woman's hands, which forced Wanda to retreat.

Weeks of gruelling training had paid off. Wanda was now more confident in her ability to spar against Elizabeth. Although she knew that she'd stand no chance against her in a real fight, she thought she did rather well. The only person in her father's inner circle who could compete with Elizabeth in hand-to-hand was the gruff-looking Logan. And even he had complemented Wanda on her growing skills a few times.

A swift slap against her wrist brought Wanda back to reality as Elizabeth had revealed her true tactic by forcing Wanda against the wall in an arm-lock. An arm-lock which Wanda found she could not break away from.

 _["You lost focus,"]_ Elizabeth grunted as she forced Wanda's arm to it's limit. _["If I wanted to, I could snap your arm like a twig just by lifting up a little. Or i could smash your head against this wall. Now, if you can break out of this I will answer ONE of your many questions about what you heard. Deal?"]_ Wanda didn't even bother questioning how she knew that Wanda had a hundred questions bouncing around in her skull. That was the difficulty in dealing with telepaths. Luckily, she had a solution.

The table that lay in the middle of the room suddenly took flight, under Wanda's power, and slammed into Elizabeth's back.

It hit with such force that both women where forced to their knees. But there was enough confusion to allow Wanda to slip out of the grip she'd been held in. She re-gained her footing, and spun around to deliver a finishing kick that never came close to hitting home, as Elizabeth caught it in her hand with cold precision.

"Very good," Elizabeth said out loud as she released Wanda's foot and clasped her hands behind her back. "You've done a lot better than I thought possible. Now," she said with a slight roll of her eyes, "go ahead. _ONE_ question." Wanda didn't even have to pause and think. The question was already sitting on her tongue.

"Who where you talking too?" she asked.

"The father of my youngest daughter," Elizabeth replied, before briskly walking away, preventing any more follow-up questions. Of which Wanda now had a million more.

...xxXxx...

Jubilee clutched her arms tight around her body in a vain attempt to stop herself from shaking. Of course it didn't work, just like it hadn't worked the past twenty times she'd tried it.

Her whole day had been an absolute nightmare right from the moment she'd woken up in the infirmary bed. At first, she'd been alone, with only the A.I. _J.A.R.V.I.S._ to keep her company until Hank rushed into the room. And the moment she saw him, she knew something was deeply wrong even before he sat down and explained the situation.

Deep down, she had already been aware that she'd been out for a period of time. The last thing she remembered was a huge man about to crush Jean into mincemeat. After that, everything had gone black. But, even after Hank's explanation, she felt as though he was leaving something out. There was something in his eyes that told her he was lying when he said everything was going to be alright.

Hank had tried to keep her calm as he explained the various tests he was running, trying to diagnose her condition. Everything he'd said to her had gone completely over her head until Jean entered the room, and had been able to act as a sort of translator between the two of them. But even with her presence, things had still continued to go down hill from there.

For starters, she felt sick to her stomach. Which Jean tired to pass off as just being hungry, as Jubilee hadn't eaten for a few days. But it was more than that. She felt different. Like there was an electrical current running through her body, simultaneously giving her a desperately needed boost and draining her of everything she had.

When she'd brought that up to them, Jean and Hank had shared a look. A look that Jubilee knew mean that there was something they weren't telling her. When she'd prodded them further all she got in return was more soothsaying. Which just infuriated her even more. Why wasn't she getting a straight answer from them?

 _Sure,_ she thought with a small grimace. _I'm not nearly as smart as Hank, Peter or Tony...but I'm not FUCKING stupid! What happened? Was someone hurt? Did i do something wrong?_ She fumed as Jean and Hank exchanged what she assumed was a telepathic conversation. Which was both rude and insulting, according to what Jean had taught her back at the Xavier institute. Fortunately they where at least interrupted by a quick call from Steve. Apparently someone was at the front door looking for them.

"Oh!" Jean exclaimed excitedly, "that'll be the Professor! he's in town, so I invited him over to..." she said as she quickly looked back at Jubilee. "catch up. Hank, why don't we go meet him at the door? I'm sure there's a lot you two have in common! So I'll introduce you. Don't worry," she said, addressing Jubilee this time, "I'll be back in a moment."

Jubilee didn't bother replying. She just remained silent until the two of them left the room, and scoffed at the small, metallic _click_ of the simple lock. It was like neither of them remembered that she'd spent a significant amount of time out on the streets. Picking a lock was almost second nature to her. She pulled a pin out of her hair and make short work of the lock.

"Like riding a bike," she huffed to herself as she pushed the door open. The halls where completely empty, so she was able to move around with some freedom as she headed towards the bathroom. After all, splashing some cold water on her face was probably going to do wonders for her current mood.

"I just want a straight fucking answer," she muttered to herself as she pushed open the door tot he washroom. "No more bullshit," she continued as she turned on the faucet and wet her hands. "Just plain old... _WHAT THE FUCK!"_ she screamed as soon as she looked in the mirror.

...xxXxx...

"You look tense," Aunt May said as both she and Peter stepped through the main entrance into an elaborately constructed high-rise building. All around them people went around their business, though a fair few still stopped to stare and whisper at his presence. A volley of fingers where pointed at him, though most people appeared to at least try and be discreet. Not that it really helped his mood that much. His whole day had gone downhill ever since Jessica had been forced to leave for the Mansion urgently, and Gwen had gone off to work. And being where he was wasn't exactly his idea of a good time.

"Just tired is all," he replied quickly, not really wanting to answer her question. Although his answer did bear a great deal of honesty.

"Excuse me! Mr. Parker? Mrs Parker?" a high-pitched voice called out from across the floor, near a set of elevators. Both Peter and May briskly walked over to the woman, who was a blonde in her mid- to late-forties, wearing a smart black pantsuit. "Right this way," she said as she motioned for them to follow her to her boss's office.

Though the woman kept a professional demeanour, Peter still noticed the way her eyes soaked in his scars. Despite the fact that he'd been in and out of this same building multiple times over the past month.

They quickly boarded the Elevator, and Peter was thankful for the privacy.

"Mr. Murdoch has been waiting for you," the woman, who's name was Karen Paige, if Peter remembered correctly, said as she rifled through papers within the folder she held in her arms. "Today he's agreed to meet you in his private office on the top floor."

"Top floor?" May blurted loudly, "my word! I remember walking into that little shack of his down in Hell's Kitchen!" Peter didn't say anything. He knew that there where a number of reasons why Mathew Murdoch, a high-profile Lawyer who's mere presence could make the most staunch CEO's piss their pants, wanted them as a client. First and foremost was that he'd been a good friend of Peter's Uncle for a long time. Second was that this was shaping up to be the case of the decade, if not century. And third, Peter knew that Mat viewed him as a sort of protege.

After all, he had been the one to show him the ropes, back in the day.

The elevator doors pinged open, and the three of them where transported into a simple, yet luxuriously adorned room three times the square footage of Peter's childhood home. Almost the entire outer wall consisted of crystal-clear windows, the only exceptions being the Elevators, and a small section that sat in one corner, which Peter assumed was the washroom. Other than that, the office was split into four parts. One common area, one area for Karen, and the two largest where obviously for Matt and his partner. Off to one side was a medium-sized balcony.

"So lovely," May whispered underneath her breath. Though Peter had become somewhat accustomed to luxury, thanks to spending so much time around Tony Stark, he was still very impressed by what he saw. "to get to see this every day..."

"You'll have to ask someone else what it's like," said a voice from behind them. May whirled around to look at the speaker in shock, but Peter had a feeling he was behind them the entire time, though he hadn't been entirely sure until Matt spoke. "Because I'd best describe it as a big, black, blob," he said as he closed the distance between them. He extended a free hand in a welcoming gesture, while his other hand tightly gripped his white cane.

For a man who'd lived such a life as he had, Matt moved with a surprising amount of grace and dignity, easily avoiding the few obstacles in his path as he made his way towards them.

"Mr. Murdoch, how are you?" May replied warmly as she shook his hand. "How's your daughter doing? Last time we met you said she was having some trouble at school?"

"Lara's doing just fine now. Just some boy trouble is all," Matt replied as he gently touched May's shoulder, before turning his attention to Peter. "Mr. Parker," he said smartly, with a subtle hint of a wry grin on his face. Peter absentmindedly returned the grin. "Come," Matt said as he beckoned them over to his desk. "I...I think that it is better that we meet up here," he said as his tone turned more grave, and Peter could see creases forming on his brow. "From now on. Because Security's already caught several people trying to break into the building in an attempt to access whatever information I have," he said.

"You should tell them to shoot on sight," May replied coldly as she took a seat. "Those _freaks_ deserve everything coming to them for what they've done to us." Peter clenched his jaw, wanting to lash back out at his Aunt for her words. But he restrained himself to only a heavy sigh. "And what's worse is ordinary people are getting caught up in all this," she muttered tensely. "why...my niece was supposed to be joining us, but she had to fly away and attend to _Captain America_ getting shot! Can you believe it?" she continued with a shake of her head, as Peter looked away, so she couldn't see the bulging vein in his forehead. "Maybe that'll be enough to sway the court in our favour, though..." she huffed, as Matt once more took the reins of the conversation as he opened a file and laid it out before them.

"Unfortunately Mrs Parker I think everything's still fairly deadlocked at this point," he sighed as he gestured to the pages in front of them. "with little room to budge. Now," he said as he flipped to a new page in the folder. "the evidence for Mr Alderyce's guilt is all out for everyone to see. Thankfully those tapes survived somehow...not to mention the compelling eyewitness account," he said, gesturing to Peter this time. "However we still need to worry about bribery...from both fronts," he said as he folded both hands over his cane.

"What do you mean?" May half-blurted, "isn't it a good thing if someone bribes the judge to put him back in jail? Or order the death sent-"

"No, it isn't," Matt said, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Because the second something like that gets out, the case could be overturned. Or even worse, the Jury could side with Mr. Alderyce out of some sympathy. Which he has gained, somehow."

" _Hmpf,"_ May snorted. "It's those no-good _Mutant_ Avengers," she scoffed bitterly, as Peter clenched the arm of the chair he was sitting in. "Bastards. Two of them are animals," she continued, as Peter's fingers pressed against the hard metal of the chair's arm. "the red-head's probably using her mind-powers to get sympathy..." the chair's arm actually warped under the strain that Peter placed on it as he tried his best to hide his anger. "and I heard the other's got a record..." May said, as Peter shot to his feet, heaving his chest heavily.

"I-" he snapped. "Sorry, I need some air," he said, more calmly before he briskly turned and headed for the balcony. "Just...just keep going. I'll be back in a minute...just need air."

...xxXxx...

Elizabeth strode towards the centre of the compound, which was bustling with activity. There where at least a hundred more Mutants present than usual. Which was to be expected, as Eric had been hard at work recruiting as many followers as possible in order to pull of his grand plan. Already he stood in the very centre of the clearing, on a raised platform, addressing his gathered followers.

"...four days time we will set in motion events that will forever shape the World as we now it! No longer will we be forced to hide in the shadows, to live off of the scraps of humanity! No, _we_ will reign supreme!" he said to a thunderous applause. Elizabeth smirked, knowing that Eric had always had a flair for the dramatic when addressing crowds. He was the one who'd given himself the nickname 'the master of magnetism,' after all. She found herself leaning up against a pole in the back of the crowd as she watched his presentation unfold.

"The island of Manhattan will belong to _us,_ and to any Mutant Brothers and Sisters who wish to join our cause! Our numbers will swell as the downtrodden seek out a new home, which we will provide. Together, a Nation of Mutants will be born!" A thunderous applause ripped through the gathered crowd as he finished his speech with a dramatic flourish, before bowing out and making his way across the compound.

She smiled as she watched him make his way through the crowd. Eric only stopped to speak a few words of encouragement to the occasional recruit as he went on his way. Eventually, he approached her, the exhaustion from giving his speech was etched across his face.

"Impressive," she grinned as the two of them fell into a steady stroll, away from eavesdropping ears. "Very impressive, sir."

"Thank you," Eric replied simply with a nod of his head. "Hopefully it was enough to ensure their loyalty for..."

"Everyone here knows that things are about to get a lot worse, before they get better," Elizabeth replied as she placed a re-assuring hand on the shoulder of her Commanding Officer. "But they've been so bad for so long that it doesn't matter anymore. Once we have our safe haven, things will be back to a somewhat normal state, sir."

"I hope you're right," Eric huffed as the two of them reached the outskirts of the compound, now able to look out across the water towards the island of Manhattan. It was actually a rather beautiful sight to behold. "But I have an inkling of a feeling that you didn't lure me here just for idle talk, did you?"

"No, sir. I didn't," Elizabeth replied respectfully.

"You're going to ask permission to leave the compound this evening, correct?" Eric asked her, not taking his eyes off of the island as he spoke.

"Yes sir," she replied quickly.

"Unlike every other night this week?" he said, still not looking away. "Interesting." she almost asked him how he knew she'd been sneaking away. She'd always been sure to cover her tracks as thoroughly as possible, fearing that someone might try and follow her, and expose her. "I'll need to know _where_ you've been going, Elizabeth."

"It's a private matter," she replied simply, careful to keep all emotion out of her face.

"Is it?" Eric said, finally turning back to face her. "What kind?" he asked directly, "a... _liaison?"_ he inquired with a raised eyebrow. "With-?"

"No," Elizabeth said with a vigorous shake of her head. "No sir. Not until this is over, at least. This is...another matter."

"I need more to go on than that," Eric said gravely. "I trust you with my life, Elizabeth. More importantly, I trust you with my daughter's life. But that trust can only go so far. I need-"

"It has to do with _him,_ Eric. _"_ she said, cutting him off as she squared her jaw. A look of surprise crossed Eric's face. No doubt because she so rarely talked about the previous life she'd lived before enrolling in the British Special Forces, and before she'd met Eric Lensherr.

"You mean-?" he began to say as he wiped the surprised expression off of his face.

"Yes," she replied in a hushed tone, as two people walked past. "With _him._ Something's come up and my past might be involved. I just need to be sure of things before I move forward. And he-"

"Whatever it is," Eric replied as he touched her arm gently. "We can deal with it together, just as we always have. Once-" She pulled away, and cut him off once more.

"Eric, there's a reason I won't even tell you his name," she said gravely. "The only thing you need to know about _him_ is that if I'm right about all this...then we're _all_ in trouble." For a moment, it seemed as though Eric was taken aback in fear. No doubt her obvious sense of concern was troubling to him, given how ready she was to undertake even the most gruesome assignments on a whim. He seemed to ponder for a moment, contemplating what she'd just told him before giving a verdict.

"Very well. Permission granted. Under the condition that you take Wanda, Pietro & Logan with you tonight," he said, with no room for argument in his tone. All she could do was give an accepting nod before departing. She didn't like it, but the arrangement would have to do.

...xxXxx...

A tight smile crossed Jean's face the moment she walked into the foyer. There, in the very centre of the room, in polite conversation with Azari, was her teacher and mentor, Charles Xavier. He was dressed in a simple dark tan suit and leather shoes. His arms where gently resting against the sides of his wheelchair, while his hands where folded together. Behind him stood her Boyfriend, Scott Summers, who she immediately walked over too. She planted a quick kiss on his cheek, just underneath the entirely metal contraption that covered the upper half of his head.

Sure, he could wear a power-restraining collar on special occasions, but those where both uncomfortable and unhealthy for a Mutant to wear for extended periods of time, so the helmet had to do for most of the time. He was effectively blind whenever he wore it, otherwise destructive beams of energy would shoot out of his eyes, destroying everything in their path.

"Jean that had better be you," Scott smirked as he groped for her hand.

 _["Who else would it be?"]_ she replied telepathically, before turning away from him to speak to Charles. She took in a deep breath, not quite sure how to word things other than, "so, there's been a development with..." she was cut off by a loud scream coming from down the hallway, so loud that it actually hurt her ears.

" _WHAT THE FUCK!?"_

"And that would be?" Charles replied with a slightly worried expression as she led him down the hallway towards the infirmary. Where Jubilee was _supposed_ to stay. But obviously she hadn't. "Because you told me this morning that she was still unconscious, with no signs of improvement?" he continued as she led him down the hallway, while Steve led Scott into the lounge area to wait.

"Well she woke up about three hours ago," Jean huffed as they walked. "And well, I really don't know how to explain what happened. But it seems as though," she stopped mid-sentence as she heard a loud overhead roar, the telltale signs of a jet hovering overhead. Which was odd, as Steve and the others weren't supposed to be back for another few hours. Either everything had gone way better than expected, or more likely they had taken a turn for the worst.

As if to only confirm her suspicions, Hank rushed down the hall carrying a first aid kit under one arm.

"There was a shooting at the TV studio," Hank quipped between ragged breaths. "Steve and the boy where shot. They're on their way here. Of all the days for..." he muttered before running off down the other end of the hall. "and Jubilee must have picked the lock. I think she headed for the bathrooms!" he said before he disappeared around the corner.

"I see being a Superhero hasn't done much to temper her rebellious nature," Charles remarked dryly as they passed the now-empty infirmary, and made a beeline for the bathrooms. Even without Hank's directions, Jean would have headed straight there, because that was the source of all the screaming. "I would have hoped that she'd have at least learned to listen by now," he mused.

"If anything she's gotten worse for it," Jean replied quickly with a small shake of her head. "No doubt that's Peter's fault..."

"Isn't he the one who was-" Charles said, only to stop mid-sentence as he caught sight of Jubilee stepping out of the Bathroom, still wearing her hospital gown. Jean chastised herself for not forewarning him of her _complete_ condition before now, as a hand flew to his mouth in absolute shock. "Oh my god..." he said, being unfortunately loud enough for Jubilee to hear him as she collapsed against the wall in a series of messy sobs.

Of course his shock was completely warranted. Because where Jubilee's eyes had previously been now sat two electric purple orbs. It took a few moments for the look of shock to wear off of the Professor's face. And a few more passed by before he began to wheel himself over to his former student. He went to one side of her, while Jean crouched down on her other side, both of them doing their best to offer some form of condolences to her.

"What the hell is wrong with me..." Jubilee sobbed.

...xxXxx...

Jessica practically _raced_ through the Mansion's halls in her mad dash to get to the infirmary. She only had scant few details about what had happened, but they where enough to worry her. First and foremost, a little boy had been shot. Secondly, Anti-Mutant extremists had used weapons coated with toxins in the past. There was no reason to think they wouldn't do the same for their bullets. And third, operating on Mutants was _tricky,_ depending on the mutation. Jessica would have no problems operating on someone like Jean or Jubilee. But when it came to people like Kurt or Hank, the different Mutations sometimes led to unforeseen obstacles.

She blew past a man wearing what looked like a metal hood before blowing past the doors to the infirmary about one second before Hank could inject a small needle into a whimpering boy's arm.

"Stop!" she barked as she pushed her way past a worried woman and grabbed a chart from the table. "What is that?" she asked as she indicated to the needle with an incline of her head.

"Just an anaesthetic," Hank replied, "to help ease the pain before I-."

"Did you consider the side-effects?" she questioned him as she noted the unusually cold air around the boy. She looked to the Father, who held his son tightly and asked, "he's a Cryo-Kinetic, is that right?" Both Parents exchanged a confused glance, so Jessica clarified, "he's an ice-manipulator? Or cold-manipulator?" she said, this time getting firm nods from both of them. From across the room, Steve spoke up from where he sat, trying to stitch up his side.

"Why does that matter?" he asked with a grunt, as he began to weave a needle through his skin.

"Because Mutants are different than Humans," Jessica began to say, only to mentally curse herself as three people walked into the room. Probably the three worst people to have heard the last part of her sentence. Jean and Jubilee where the first two, and the final was a bald man in a wheelchair.

The two women ignored her mostly, but the man shot her a scornful look. It took Jessica a moment to realize who he was. Charles Xavier, a world-renowned Mutant rights champion. He was a friend of Jean's, and the headmaster of the school that Jubilee had gone too. He was also one of the main people behind the movement calling for John Alderyce's release.

"I mean, what I meant-" Jessica stuttered, trying to clarify. She was, however, distracted by the two purple orbs sitting in Jubilee's eye-sockets. She tried to look away, being all to familiar with the pain experienced by those with such external differences. She just wasn't fast enough.

"I know full well what you meant," the boy's father sneered.

"No, you don't," Jessica replied, "Mutant D.N.A can be vastly different than 'regular' human D.N.A. And there fore can react differently to certain kinds of medicine. Including anaesthetic," she said as she tried to move closer to get a better view of the young boy's wound. However, she was blocked by the boy's Mother, who had a flash of venom in her eyes.

"What did you say?" the Mother snapped.

"What I said," Jessica repeated calmly, "is that any medicine administered to your son could have unforeseen side-effects. This is a fact, _not_ some interpretation made up by misguided meatheads," she said as she tried to skirt past the Mother to do her job. "I'm guessing his skin is super-cooled somehow. Which means that anything we give him may act slower...if at all. The only way to circumvent this would be to give him more. But an overdose could potentially kill him. Neither scenario is something you want to risk, correct?" Both Parents exchanged a concerned glance with one another, and the boy's Mother stepped out of her way.

"You think it's a good idea to do it without any-" Charles Xavier began to say.

"I really don't see any other option," Jessica replied quickly as she examined the wound. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw that it was an ordinary bullet, not some advanced military type. She knew that she'd be able to remove it without any difficulty. So long as the boy kept still. "What's your name, sweetie?" she said, looking the scared boy straight in the eyes. For a brief second she flashed back to ten years prior, with another, scared boy. She shook herself out of her stupor in time to get a proper answer.

"Bobby..." the boy replied with a weak cry. "It hurts..."

"I know," Jessica nodded as she gently caressed the area around the wound. Without anyone noticing, she sent a small jolt of bio-electric energy from her fingertips into the area around the wound. It would be just enough to dull the pain down to bearable levels while she worked on removing the bullet. "But you know what?" she said, re-assuring him as she subtly grabbed some tweezers. "You're being _very_ brave, Bobby. Very brave," she said as she used the tweezers to reach into the wound. Bobby flinched in pain as soon as she did this, but her hand was steady. "I know some grownups who would cry more than you are, Bobby," she continued in a soothing tone, wanting to keep him talking to her as she went about removing the bullet. It was a psychological tactic, distracting the patient so they wouldn't focus on the pain.

"Like who?" Bobby half-sobbed.

"Well a month ago I had to pin down Captain America over there," she smirked as she felt her way through the wound, until she felt the bullet and grabbed onto it. "So that I could stitch him up."

"Really?" was the reply she got.

"Uh-huh," Jessica nodded in response. "Now I'm going to count to five and pull this out. And I want you to count with me, okay?"

"Okay," Bobby replied as he sucked in a deep breath.

"One," she counted.

"One," Bobby echoed.

"Two," the said in unison.

"Three."

"Four."

"Five!" Jessica pulled the bullet out lightning-fast, before Bobby could even finish counting. He let out a whimper, but it was nothing compared to what she had been expecting. She dropped the bullet and tweezers into a metal tray while grabbing some gauze with her free hand. In no time at all she bandaged him up. Getting to her feet, she said, "you're good to go. Take it easy for a few weeks. No contact sports for at least a month. Change that at least twice a day. And if it looks like it's getting infected take him to Midtown General Hospital and tell Doctor Foster I sent you. She'll take care of things from there."

With an absolutely astounded look, the family of three got to their feet and where led to the door by Steve. And the moment they left, an uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Now that her main distraction had left, Jessica could not but help steal awkward glances at Jubilee's changed visage, just like everyone else in the room.

From what she could determine from her quick glances, Jubilee's eyes where now more of a deep blue than purple. Of course she refrained from looking any closer, not wanting to appear any ruder than she already had.

The air in the room became thick with tension as the seconds ticked by in silence. At least until Hank made an all-too obvious glancing motion.

" _What are you looking at?!"_ Jubilee hissed vehemently, causing everyone in the room, save for Xavier, to shrink back slightly.

"No one's-" Jean tried to interject, only to be cut off by a piercing glare.

"You are!" Jubilee snapped back, swinging her finger around in an arc. "All of you are! Stop!" Jessica wanted to say something, to remind her that they where dealing with an unusual situation. But she knew that her words would have little effect, aside from potentially pissing Jubilee off even more than she already was. Luckily, Xavier took charge of the situation.

"No one here is trying to upset you," he said as he placed a hand on her knee. She pulled away from his touch. "We're all worried about you. We all want to help you, if we can," he said with a sigh. He got no response, however. Aside from Jubilee getting to her feet and storming out of the room. Jean got up and tried to follow her, but Jessica cut her off by standing in her way.

"I think she needs a little time to herself," Jessica said softly, as she gave a subtle shrug. "Though maybe you should forewarn the others about her...circumstance. Just so that no one's caught off-guard."

"Agreed," Jean replied with a heavy sigh. "I just hope she doesn't go and do anything stupid."

...xxXxx...

"Don't go and do anything stupid," a voice said, bringing him out of his swirling cauldron of thoughts. Peter turned his head as Matt Murdoch strode across the balcony to join him against the railing. "The Janitors here don't like cleaning up bodies," he said with a subtle smirk.

"I thought you two would still be going over the case?" Peter huffed as eh looked back over the city.

"We where," Matt replied. "For the last two hours while you've been out here."

"Oh," Peter said, not realizing just how long he'd been standing outside. "Anything I should know about?"

"Your Aunt seems to have it out for every single Mutant in existence," Matt chuckled as he shook his head. "She told me she's written a letter to the Mayor demanding that he forcefully evict all mutants from the city."

"I asked if there was anything I should know," Peter snapped, "not is there anything that I already know."

"Well then no," Matt said as he clapped Peter on the shoulder. "No, not really. Well," he continued as he nudged his ear towards the door, clearly listening to see if May was within earshot. "not about the case anyways," he said as he began to rummage around in his pocket for something. "I _know_ that I'll get in trouble if I don't ask you this..." he said as he continued to dig for whatever he was looking for. "My daughter..."

"Laura, right?" Peter asked absentmindedly.

" _Lara,"_ Matt corrected him with a small smile as he pulled out a letter, which was sealed in an envelope. "She just turned twelve so Celebrities are now all the rage."

"That and Puberty, right?" Peter chuckled.

"More than you know," Matt sighed as he gently thrust the envelope into Peter's hands. "She's actually a pretty big Avenger's fan, you know. Mostly Captain America and Thor..."

"No idea why," Peter smirked.

"...but she was leaping with joy when i told her that you and your sister are my clients. She _demanded_ that I give you this letter so you can give it to the rest of your team to sign. But..." Matt said as he once more lowered his voice, so as to not be overheard by anyone. "I think it would mean a great deal to her if you get some of the _others_ to sign it as well."

"Others?" Peter replied, somewhat perplexed.

"I don't know for sure," Matt elaborated as he rolled his cane over in his hands, "but it seems as though Lara is _very_ special. Just like her mother. And I just think that some support from people she idolizes might... _.help her_ get through some things."

"Okay," Peter nodded, understanding completely as he slid the envelope into his jacket pocket. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you," Matt said with a heavy sigh. "Now I know something's bothering you. What is it?"

" _Pfft,"_ Peter spat as he leaned against the railing. "What _isn't_ bothering me? I mean' he paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts for a moment. "It just seems like everyone's at each other's throats lately. Everyone's got an opinion. Everyone wants to know _my_ opinion. And everyone is trying to tell me why _my_ feelings about this whole shit-show are completely wrong!" he said as he slammed his hand against the railing.

"That's..." Matt nodded, "that's a lot for anyone to deal with," he said as he patted Peter on the shoulder. "If anyone deserves to be freaking out a little bit right now Peter, it's you." He walked around to Peter's other side as he continued with, "but how do _you_ feel about everything? And I don't mean about the whole ' _Mutant rights'_ movement."

"You mean just the case," Peter sighed as he dipped his head low.

"Yes."

"What am I supposed to say?" he replied, "John Aldryce killed my Uncle. I don't know if it was on purpose or if it was an accident. But nothing that anyone does or says can change the fact that he's dead!"

"That is _exactly_ what you're supposed to say," was Matt's response. "Forget what everyone else is trying to make you think. You're the only one who's lived your life, so you're the only person with your unique point on view, Peter."

"And what if my opinion makes things worse for everyone?" he asked out loud. He really didn't expect any response. He just wanted to say it to himself, to calm his churning guts.

"Then that's not your fault," Matt replied, as Peter let out another sigh.

"Yeah well that doesn't make _me_ feel any better, double-D," he said as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a pair of his web-shooters, which had been modified to be much smaller, at the expense of cartridge size and range. "Tell May I'm gonna stop by the Mansion...see if they need any help," he said as he slipped his web-shooters over his wrists, locking them into place.

"I don't think she'd approve of you taking the express route," Matt chuckled with a shake of his head, as Peter climbed onto the railing and prepared to jump.

"You mean the _fun_ route?" Peter shot back before he leapt out into open air, cheering with elation as he began to swing through the city.

 _ **A/N: And I think I'll stop right there! Don't worry, the next chapter (Which will be out August 1st) will pick up right where this one left off!**_

 _ **Anyways, all comments & criticisms are very much appreciated! And let me know if there are any villains you'd like to see featured in upcoming chapters.**_

 _ **P.S: If you like this story, go check out Dakkaman777's story "Avengers: A New Beginning".**_


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